The Show Must Go On
by AtANuclearDegree
Summary: When the frail looking boy had set foot in Riften, Brynjolf suspected everything but talent from him. But with his powerful voice and hidden abilities, he may be just what the Guild needs to regain their infamy. At least until they figure out his secret. {Not a BL}
1. Scared Little Boys

_**~Author's Note~**_

___Hello everyone~! This is a little Skyrim fanfiction that I have been working almost a week now, and have been working on it non stop. I'm actually quiet pleased with it so far, but am very nervous about uploading it. I only hope that you all will like it as much as a few of my friends have! Any minuscule review or favorite is greatly appreciated. It's a great way to lift my enthusiasm in writing too! Since I usually have a horrible way of leaving many stories without ever finishing. Also, I have about six chapters already written, and I'm debating on whether I should keep with updating once or not. Advice or constructive criticism is welcome 3 _

_Another little side node, this story is greatly influenced by two things at the moment: a song and Romeo and Juliet. Of course, it will not be as tragic as the play, but there will be a few notable references in latter chapters. Anyone who can guess the song (by the title) gets a cookie 3 Well, I shall end this rant here. Enjoy~!_

_Your's Eternally, Erin_

* * *

><p>"You are certain we are going the right way?" It was a question of unease, spoken in such a soft tone it was almost inaudible. Yet for the Khajiit woman it was clear as day. Having spent the past few weeks with her soft spoken companion, she learned to pick up on the sounds he made before he spoke as to listen to him.<p>

"Of course, V. You doubt my sense of direction too easily." She grinned back at the feminine boy sitting awkwardly on the large horse. His curly red hair was tied up and stashed away under his golden cap, and his eyes of sky darted in such a manner it confirmed his distinct fear of the darkness around them. He looked even smaller atop the large stallion they had found to have taken a liking to him. Such a frail, useless companion to have. Durga wondered how she got stuck with such a whelp.

"I apologize, Durga. I am just nervous." He casted his eyes downward in shameful embarrassment. Sometimes Durga had to ponder how he pulled off his little lie so well. He was, in fact, a terrible actor for a bard. She took the apology with a swift nod of her head and continued to lead her mare forward. They were headed south after a night spent in Windhelm to the notorious town of Riften. Of course, her rabbit of a friend did not know this yet. If it were up to him, they would still be safely behind the walls of Whiterun.

Durga could still remember meeting the young Valentyne. During a simple job to retrieve a stolen object from a group of bandits, the foolish boy had come up behind her and almost had his throat slit as punishment for being so brazen. After a brief and panicked explanation, he had begged her to allow him to tag along with her, promising to lend any hand his skills could lend. For whatever reason, she had given into him far too easily. Maybe it was his voice, gentle and silken with such an appealing accent that it was hard not to lend a tentative ear. Or it could have even been the way he spoke, as if there was nothing else but his words to be wrapped around. Whatever it had been, Durga gave in to his baby face and they had been adventuring around ever since. The pretty boy was good for distractions and conversation. Not a single other thing had she found him good at.

They had been on the move to their destination for about a week now, and Valentyne was beginning to have a sinking feeling that they weren't really headed for the nice little lake she had promised him. He did trust her, there was no doubt about that, but sometimes Durga enjoyed bending the truth to avoid his anxious complaining. Valentyne clutched the black cloak tighter to his small body. The night air chilled his bones with cold and fear. He really hated the dark, it was just too unwelcoming.

In envious silence, he watched as Durga struck down a lone wolf with one swing of her blade, keeping perfect balance on her horse. To be as brave as her was a large dream of his. Granted, Valentyne was a confident young man, but when his fears took him over he was no braver than a mouse. He had tried to toughen himself up back in Whiterun, teaching himself a bit of swordplay but even still holding a blade just felt awkward to him. So he just led his horse on, sitting in groveling silence and picking away at the dreams that welled themselves deep in his gentle heart.

Not even an hour later they were circling around a large lake, their destination being revealed before Valentyne's big doe eyes. And it didn't look very appealing.

"Durga… Where are we?" The nervousness in his tone was the clearest thing, but just below the surface was the hurt. Durga had lied to him because she knew he wouldn't have been able to handle the idea of traveling to a place with such a shifty reputation. Valentyne knew where they were, and he knew that Durga knew he did. The better question would have been 'Why did you bring me to this grotesque place where a frail young man such as myself did not belong and would certainly have his face smashed into a rock in a matter of moments upon entry?' Oh Valentyne and his hidden meanings.

"Look V," She sighed turning her horse around to face him, an utter seriousness in her cat eyes. "I have to find someone here for Delphine. We will be out within a day, I promise. Just stick close to me and you'll be fine." The normal Khajiit lingo even to her was strange. Having grown up around Nords, she found their way of speech much more normal compared to the way her parents had spoken. The smile of reassurance stilled the boy's fears a little. Durga had yet to lead him into harm's way, and she didn't seem to have any plans to anytime soon. So he did as he had been told, and kept fast to her heels as they walked their horses to the gate.

As soon as they were about to tie their horses to a nearby tree, the guard came up to them. He told Durga that only the North Gate was open. Always the curious one, Durga questioned him intensely, and Valentyne could see the guards discomfort from the shuffling of his feet. Finally, gaining a little bit of courage to face up to her, he threatened to not allow them in at all if she didn't comply. Durga grumbled her annoyance as they walked their horses to the front gate.

"Well at least we have a proper place to put the horses." Valentyne commented cheerfully as they neared the stables, only getting an angry harrumph from Durga. She was horribly impatient about everything he had come to find, especially with things that stunted her continuing of a job. After they tied up the horses and paid the stable hand, they walked up to the gate. Once again, they were confronted by a guard. Durga's silver eyes flared at him, but still he went on his clearly rehearsed speech.

"Hold there," He said in a rather cocky tone, his arms crossed in front of his chest. "Before I let you into Riften, you need to pay the visitors tax." Durga sighed in exaggerated aggravation, throwing her arms into the air for an added effect.

"This is obviously just a shakedown!" She growled at him. "What a joke! Are you even a guard? I doubt it. I will not hand over a single septim to you, or anyone in this filthy rat hole." Durga was right in his face at this point, stabbing daggers into him with just her narrow eyes. Although she was terrifyingly serious, the guard wasn't wavered from his pompous attitude at all. Clearly he had more gall then the last guard they had faced.

"Then I guess you won't be entering Riften anytime soon, cat." He spat out the insult with such venom, Valentyne couldn't help but flinch. He saw Durga's hostility rise, and at the moment her hands balled into fist he knew it was time to intervene. Putting a gentle hand on Durga's armored shoulder in quick reassurance, he stood in front of her and the guard, just in case she lost it.

"Excuse the hostility, sir, but what my companion here means is to not cause a scene before the gates of Riften. We simply want to get in, and since clearly we have uncovered your true intent on taking our money right from under our booted feet, it would be in both of our best interest if you let us past. We would not want anything about our little meeting slip to a real guard now would we?" The complete and utterly sincere quality in Valentyne's voice was what baffled the thief the most. In a matter of moments, he had unlocked the door without a second thought to it. As if the boy had put him under some sort of strange spell, he was completely dazed after they walked through, and looked at his own companion for some clarity in the matter. He was also staring after the two travelers, equally astonished.

Valentine walked closely to Durga, so closely that he bumped into her a few times when someone else walked to close and he panicked. Durga didn't seem to mind; she had figured this reaction from him and was much more pleased with this then any constant whining. It was too late for them to get any information on Esbern tonight, so she immediately started walking towards a building called the Bee and Bard.

No one seemed to be stirred by their sudden entrance, all attending to their own matters. Some were loud and hopelessly drunk, and some were quiet and glanced around with an intuitive eye. Either way, it didn't help the young boy's nervous disposition, and he had to resist the urge to clutch onto Durga's arm. He followed at her heels to an Argonian woman behind a wooden counter. Valentyne listened as Durga bought them a room, glancing around with an eye of suspicion for every person there. Although his trust towards people was vacant on a normal basis, it was especially so in this town.

Once in their room, Durga took off her heavy armor and stretched out her muscles in a very feline fashion. Valentyne just watched her, sometimes finding himself fascinated with her natural way of living. It was just the curiosity of his well-born nature, so he never once questioned it.

"I'm going to go out there and have a few drinks, V. Relieve some of this stress," She told him as she threw on a more comfortable attire. Changing in front of the young boy never bothered her. She knew he wouldn't be ogling at her like some lust filled man; it just wasn't how he was. Valentyne nodded from his spot on the bed, sitting with his knees to his chest as he fooled around with his flute. He was far too sick to his stomach out of weak nerves to entertain at tonight. Besides, he doubted any coin would be thrown his way at a place like this.

He sat in silence after she left, listening to the loud laughter from downstairs. It wasn't often that Valentyne indulged himself in a glass of wine or a tankard of ale. He thought alcohol was horrible and tasted awful, but if offered he felt it rude not to accept. Many a time he would be hunched over vomiting from too many drinks offered for his entertainment.

A few moments passed, and then an hour with still no sign of Durga. Sitting up and getting off the bed, Valentyne took of his cap and let his curls bounce down to his shoulders. His lengthy hair added to his feminine quality, but it didn't seem to faze him in the least. Every jabbing insult to the very humorist joke about his appearance never once bothered him. He took everything he was dealt in an easy going stride. After pacing the room a bit, he finally decided it was time for bed. It would be difficult to ignore the shouting from under his feet, but he'd manage like he always had. He reached up to his neck to grab the string that was normally tied around his neck to find it gone. In a state of panic, he grabbed at his clothes but still didn't find it. The ring that had been attached to it was a gift from someone special he had had in his life as a child.

Tying up his hair sloppily and throwing on his cap, he basically ran down the old wooden steps and into the crowd of people that had seemed to double in size. It took him a while to find his companion; she had been sitting in a far corner with an older looking man. His auburn hair seemed brown in the dim light, and his large body structure and scruffy look signaled to Valentyne that he was a Nord. They seemed to be in a serious conversation of sorts, and though Valentyne hated to interrupt, that ring was more important to him than anything.

"Oh V," Durga said as he neared their table, a slight bit of shock in her tone. The Nord looked up at him as well, a look of surprise also in his gaze. "I didn't expect you to come down. We were actually just talking about you." The urgency in Valentyne's eyes was an immediate signal to Durga that something was wrong. Then she noticed that the string that she had never once noticed off of him was gone, and she immediately knew the cause of his panic. She sighed deeply, downing the rest of her ale quickly and standing up. "Well it seems our little conversation has to be cut short." The sentence was directed to the Nord who was still taking Valentyne in. "We seem to be missing something of ours."

His steady gaze shifted up to Durga, his green eyes almost laughing at her. "You've been hit already have you lass?" Durga shot him a glare, her gaze as steady as his.

"No, we simply misplaced something." The lie came off her tongue with such truth that it took a while to notice the way her lip twitched after, a clear sign of a false sentence. Most people wouldn't notice it, but after being with Durga for as long as Valentyne had, it was almost as obvious as the way she crossed her arms in front of her chest whenever she was agitated.

"Aye, lass, of course. My mistake." The sarcasm was obvious, causing Durga to glare more, narrow eyes becoming narrower. "It would seem to me like you are already in need of more of my help. Care to rethink our little arrangement?" To this, Durga said nothing, just thought. Valentyne looked back and forth at them, completely in the dark about everything that had just occurred in the past hour she had been gone.

"Well… actually." Durga suddenly smiled big, glancing over at Valentyne. "Maybe my friend here could help you while I go looking for who I need. V may seem useless, but under the correct circumstances he can surprise you." Valentyne frantically looked up at Durga, eyes wide with horror. Help this giant of a man? Who Valentyne himself knew nothing about? Was she crazy? "I mean, he did handle your thief within a matter of seconds." The Nord himself didn't seem too happy about this idea himself. He looked Valentyne over again, making him shift uncomfortably on his feet.

"Well lad, are you up to doing some work for me?" The Nord looked straight into Valentyne's eyes, causing him to freeze automatically. There was something about him that arose both panic and fascination in him. It made him ever more uneasy, and he let out a choked stutter. The Nord shook his head, laughter lit up in his eyes again and a smile appeared on his face. "I'll take that as a no."

"Don't be ridiculous, V can do it," Durga countered strongly, giving the boy a hard pat on the back, allowing Valentyne to know that he was about to screw everything up if he didn't shape up. "Just you wait and see. We'll be there tomorrow at 8 on the dot." Valentyne was glad for the hope she seemed to have in, but he also feared it was all false. Whatever this little 'job' for him was, it didn't seem too easy. Nor too legal.

"Alright lass," The Nord told Durga, also finishing up his ale. He stood up, and Valentyne had been right about his largeness compared to him. He was distinctively taller than him; a foot, at least. "I'm trusting you judgment in this boy." He shot a sideways glance to Valentyne, causing him to get that unease in his gut again. Durga and the Nord shook hands, and with gleeful triumph she took her companion back up to their room. When the door was locked and they were sure they were alone, Durga fell back onto the bed with a soft sigh.

"Those girly tendencies of yours will get you in a mighty heap of trouble one day, V." Durga watched him, all seriousness cloaked around her words. Valentyne was pacing again, cheeks tinted with a soft pink hue. He just couldn't understand what was wrong with him. Granted, most men scared him in the first place and made him horribly anxious when alone with them. Normally when Durga was around him he was completely fine. There was something about that Nord that just sent him in a little tizzy of embarrassed panic. "Whatever you do, tomorrow you cannot act like that. He has information on Esbern that I need, and won't give it to me unless I help him."

Valentyne looked at her solemnly. Whatever this job was the Nord had for him, he had to do his absolute best to not disappoint. If not for his own pride, but for Durga's. She had done so much for him, and he owed it to her to help her in return. He nodded, regret already settling over as she grinned widely at him.

"He can even help with finding your ring, V. If we work together we can be out of here in no time." He only nodded again. Even long after they had said their good nights, Valentyne found himself staring up at the night cloaked ceiling. Lost in the bottomless pit of his thoughts, he thought of everything and nothing. The ring, the path ahead, and that Nord. What was it about him that made Valentyne so uneasy and at peace at the same time? Sighing heavily into his pillow, he shook his head rapidly. He ran his fingers through his mop of curls, glancing over at Durga who was at complete peace in her sleep. Maybe it would be best to take after her and just forget about everything and sleep.

He tried this tactic out, but when the sun rose his eyes were still wide open.


	2. Morals and Virtues

_**~Authors Note~**_

_After constant nagging from a friend of mine to post the next chapter, I finally decided to comply with her wishes. Noticing all my mistakes in the last chapter, I made sure to double and triple check everything. Still, I am sometimes bad at catching minor details so please do excuse them. The favorites and such were greatly appreciated. I swear I was giggling like a fool when I read my first review. So, many thanks to everyonegocrazy~ _

_I have had slight trouble with writing, recently. I'm afraid I made Valentyne too poetic and sophisticated, and that I will not be able to give him decent dialogue. Any tips and hints on that would help. I imagine him with such a Shakespearean tone now, I have to laugh. Mainly because he is supposed to have an Irish accent and I completely think of him as English now. But enough rambling, here is the next chapter~_

* * *

><p>The market area was a swarming mass of people the next morning. In the large crowd, it was hard to dissect out the thieves that were surely watching every pocket of the innocent. Young children scampered about, wandering away from the safety of their mothers' sides. The sun lay hidden from the world behind a few lazy clouds, and the warmth of the wind was a welcoming blanket of false safety. The ringing of loud voices sounded off in Valentyne's ears as he followed Durga out of the Bee and Barb. The circles under his eyes were accented by how he could barely keep them open as he stumbled a bit on his feet. Never the graceful one as it had been, he couldn't function without an average of eight hours in bed. Bumping into Durga, he let out a soft yawn, covering his mouth with a delicate hand.<p>

"How can you be so exhausted, V?" Durga pushed the boy off of her, almost sending him into a tall Argonian man. Muttering little squeaks for apologies, Durga chuckled as he scrambled back to her.

"I just could not sleep last night. This whole arrangement… I do not enjoy the idea of it, Durga. You know how I feel about people such as these... these thieves." Oh she knew very well. The only time V had ever spurted words of hate was when Durga brought them up. When threats were given by such a frail thing, they were nothing more than false and empty. But when given by V, they had a way of chilling your bones until you backed away from fear. Sometimes, she didn't doubt that V could make it through a battle with just the power of his words. "You were silly to fathom I would not figure out the intent behind this so called 'arrangement'."

Durga sighed. "I know, I know. Just try and put your hatred aside just this once, for me?" She knew there was no more argument for him to give after that. V would kill for someone if asked. It was against his nature to say no to even the sickest sin. "Alright, put on a decently awake face. There he is."

The Nord was at a stall, talking to what seemed to be a costumer. When he noticed the two approaching, he sent the brown haired woman away and smiled at the two. Valentyne felt the unease in his gut, forgetting about his clumsy feet until he almost toppled over again.

"Whoa now lad," He said as he put a hand on Valentyne's shoulder to steady him, feeling the way the boys muscles tensed in response. "You sure you're up for this today?" After shrinking away from him until he was comfortable with their distance, Valentyne nodded his tired head, fearing that the stutter would return in his voice.

"Well we're here, so tell me where I can my friend and V will help you with whatever it is you need." The slight annoyance in Durga's voice was clearly directed towards Valentyne himself. He hung his head in silent shame.

"And if he doesn't succeed? That leaves me in on a bad end of our arrangement, lass." It was clear he doubted all of this. Who wouldn't? Valentyne was a scrawny, pretty looking boy who didn't know left from right at this point. The useless feeling washed over him quickly, and the little confidence in him flared up. He spoke with smooth grace before Durga could muster a single word.

"I may not look like nothing more than a child, but I can handle my own in a given task. In all honesty, I am nervous enough for an army of young men, but we tend to get lovely surprises from such feelings, do we not?" Durga smiled wide at him for finally gaining an ability to use his voice. The Nord seemed taken aback himself, but smiled after a moment.

"Aye, lad." He told Durga where she could find a man who could quite possibly be Esbern, and after a quick goodbye to Valentyne, she ran off into the crowd. They were silent for a few moments, Valentyne awaiting his illegal orders and the Nord still trying to figure out how to exactly handle the boy. "You can call my Brynjolf," He said finally, messing with a few things behind his stall before standing in front of Valentyne. "The lass calls you V, I'm guessing it's short for something?"

"Valentyne," He said quickly, but the smooth tone of his voice was still present. "You can call me whatever; I harbor no preference in the matter. Now, what is it that I am supposed to be doing for you?" The skepticism was clear in the way he crossed his arms in front of his chest in a protective manner, as if shielding his heart from the truth of what he was about to do. Valentyne felt terribly uncomfortable with not only the presence of the thief, but with what he was allowing himself to comply to.

"Simple," He began. "I'm going to cause a distraction and you're going to steal Madesi's-" He made a quick motion with his head towards an Argonian man standing behind the stall next to his. "-silver ring from the strongbox under his stand. Once you have it, I want you to place it in Brand-Shei's-" His gaze darted over to a man sitting on a box close by. "-pocket without him noticing." Valentyne raised an eyebrow at this. Stealing something just to up and plant it on someone else?

"And why frame the man? It seems a bit silly, does it not?" Brynjolf shook his head at his naivety, smiling at him.

"There's someone who wants him put out of business permanently. That's all you need to know." Valentyne's nose scrunched a bit, as it usually did when he was confused.

"Alright, but I hope you do realize I have no tools for this task you are asking me to complete for you. I have not done something this ridiculous since I was a young child." The doubt that Valentyne's honesty caused Brynjolf was settling on his face. What in all Tamriel had he agreed to? He could only hope that somehow the boy could pull through. Sending him off with about ten lock picks, he began his completely false rant about Falmerblood Elixir.

Shuffling through the crowd uneasily, Valentyne tried to remember the few things he had learned of lock picking from the books he had read. Maybe it wouldn't be as difficult as he suspected. Maybe, by some Talos given miracle, he would succeed. Valentyne could only hope, for he hated to disappoint.

Once he noticed that the crowd of people was decently distracted and no one else was around him, he crouched down behind the stand. The first lock pick broke within a matter of seconds, and the second was gone just as quickly. Panic awoke in his failing composure, and he looked over at Brynjolf to see if any assistance could be given. The thief was busying himself to distracting the crowd, leaving Valentyne to feel even more alone than he should have. With only eight more lock picks left, he had to somehow manage to get this to work. Using precise movements and the gentlest of care, he finally managed to get the door open. A soft sigh of relief followed by darting eyes, and he was off to work on the strong box. He could tell that Brynjolf was running out of things to say when he finally managed to open it, and so he quickly located the ring amongst the other things and calmly made his way around to the next stand, right behind where Brand-Shei was sitting.

It didn't occur to him until that moment that he had no idea how to get this ring into this man's pocket without getting caught. As he sat crouched behind the boxes, his mind frantically searched on how to go about this whole mess, finding no hope in simply just placing it next to him. He actually had to place it in his pocket. Without being noticed. How was he to do something like that? With a spot of luck on his side, he noticed a small opening between the two stacks of boxes. It was just large enough for Valentyne's petite hand to fit through with little trouble, and was perfectly positioned to give him a clear shot of Brand-Shei's pocket. Glancing around one last time, he cautiously reached his hand out and, as gently as possible, placed the ring inside the man's pocket. After that, he scurried off, trying to make his panicked movements natural with his trembling. Lucky for him, most of the people were still listening to Brynjolf and he made it safely behind the stone wall that had been encircling the small market area.

Falling down to the ground with a shaky sigh, he attempted to calm himself. He had actually done it. He had actually stolen something from an innocent being and framed another. He couldn't even say anything for his self, not even 'assisting a friend' could work in this matter. Guilt welled into his gut with sickening churning motions. Rubbing his forehead, he tried to close his eyes and forget it all, but it proved useless.

"Looks like you pulled it off after all, lad." Valentyne looked up to find Brynjolf smiling down at him. He only wished he could share his happiness in the matter, but he could only stare up at him blankly, frowning as if he had just committed the worst act of treason. "Don't look so down, you even get a bit of coin for your work." Groaning, Valentyne buried his face into his hands in shame. Again he asked himself: What had he done?

"That does not matter," Valentyne said with a sign, looking back up at him. "Why would I want money made from an immoral thing such as this? It may be simple for you, but for me- and mind you I have never done a dishonest thing in my life- it is just a tad bit more difficult for my brain to comprehend the fact that I just got a man thrown in prison." Valentyne motioned toward Brand-Shei, who was now struggling with a few guards who were attempting to take him away. Brynjolf shook his head, putting the coin purse back into his pocket.

"It's just business, no need to get upset about it." Valentyne shook his head frantically, knitting his brows tightly and staring at the ground. Was he _pouting_? Brynjolf held in his laughter at this. In regular circumstances, such childish activity would annoy him. But with Valentyne, it was strangely… adorable? Almost like a redeeming quality he had. Such innocence was hard to come by within Skyrim now-a-days.

"Well that is clearly an opinion I shall never share with you. I simply did this for Durga." The last bit had been said to himself, like he was still trying to convince himself that because of this fact, it made it right. He brushed a few loose curls away from his eyes and tucked them behind his ears, then looked up at Brynjolf. "Terribly sorry for disappointing you on the matter, though. But it is quite difficult to please everyone." He smiled a bit, his trembling slowly starting to stop as he regained his composer.

"No need to apologize. I'm actually surprised our plan went off without a hitch with the way things have been going." To this, Valentyne cocked his head to the side a bit, confusion spreading over his face. Brynjolf just shook his head, brushing the topic off. "Never mind that, you managed to get it done and you did well. How about we set you up with another task?" Valentyne's eyes narrowed. Was this man crazy?

"And give me a reason as to why, after I just explained my moral ways, would I do another 'task' for you?" His words tipped with ice daggers, Brynjolf found it hard not to flinch at the animosity behind his sentence. It came to a surprise to him that such a gentle boy could be able to carry such venom in his speech, but nonetheless he kept an easy going look on his face.

"Don't worry; it's nothing illegal this time." Valentyne's shoulder's immediately slackened as the hostility left him. "The group I represent has its home in the Ratway beneath Riften… a tavern called the Ragged Flagon."

"I'm guessing you want me to find my way down there?" The idea wasn't too pleasant for Valentyne. The Ratway? The name itself caused a shiver to crawl down his spine.

"Aye. That is where your friend has also traveled to, so if you can manage to get there in one piece you can meet up with her." It was almost as if he was taunting him, as if he thought Valentyne actually managing to succeed in planting the ring was just some miracle. Which, it probably was, and Valentyne wouldn't deny it at all. But something about the way he had said it made his pride flare, and he immediately sat up straight and looked straight into his eyes.

"What do I gain if I manage on succeeding with getting to this little tavern in one piece?" Brynjolf grinned. Now that was just the right attitude he liked to see.

* * *

><p><em><strong>~Authors Note~<strong>_

_So that was it~ I hope you all enjoyed. If you hadn't been able to tell yet, this story will not strictly follow the Thieves Guild quest line. Why? Valentyne just isn't the type of person to willingly become a thief. Anyway, I will hopefully have the third chapter up soon~ Much editing must proceed beforehand, though. Ciao for now~!_

_Yours Eternally, Erin_


	3. Surprises

"Do you actually think he's going to make it down here?" Vex asked Brynjolf with an eyebrow raised in pure skepticism. They were sitting at one of the tables in the Ragged Flagon, tankards of ale in their hands as they conversed about this so called 'Valentyne'. Brynjolf was leaning back in his chair, completely at ease as he told his tale about the pretty boy that had actually managed to pull off something he never thought he could. Though he was surprised beyond belief, he hardly let it show to Vex.

"Not at all," He said, taking another drink. Even while he said this, something inside him wanted to believe that the young lad could make it down there. "I doubt he can even find the door to the Ratway with the way he was stumbling around this morning." Vex shook her head, but there was a smile on her face.

"Well, the way you make it sound, we better hope he doesn't or that Khajiit will have your head for leading him into harm's way." Delvin, who had been listening to their conversation from a nearby table, came to sit with them. "She didn't seem too pleasant when she came in earlier."

Brynjolf pondered this idea, but still he couldn't seem to find a bit of worry over the idea of the boy being hurt. He hated to admit it, but he did have a bit of confidence in the boy's hidden talents. Either Valentyne had been lying about never being a part of the thieving business, or he was born with a natural talent. Either way, there was something fascinating about him that led Brynjolf to believe that he could overcome just about any daunting task.

"Even if he does make it to the Ratway, he has a way of making it out of tough situations. He made it through my 'guards' without any problems at all." This was enough to spark their interest. "He just has this way of speech… if anything, we could certainly use him for gaining information." _If he would even help with that._

A sudden opening of the door caused all three of them to stand up a bit and look. The flare of red curls caused a grin to appear on Brynjolf's face. "Speak of the devil." They watched as his bouncing little steps made it over to Dirge, in which he had a brief and quick conversation with. It left the man confused and dazed as Valentyne bounded over to the three at their table, a smile on his childish face.

"Well, well. Color me very impressed lad; I didn't expect you to make it." Brynjolf looked the boy over quickly. _And without a single scratch. _Vex and Delvin also seemed surprised at this, and the fact that he was so petite for a boy. They had been told by Brynjolf that he was very feminine and frail looking, but they hadn't expected it to be to this extent. He couldn't be older than ten by the look of him.

"You shall not get rid of me that easy, Brynjolf," He said, chin held up with pride. "But I do believe I have won our little bet, rather well actually. So, if you could please, I would appreciate my ring back." Brynjolf looked at him with a bit of surprise. Before he had left him in the market area, Valentyne simply said he would let him know what he wanted when he arrived. "As I've told Durga many times, you doubt my skills far too much."

Brynjolf's smile only widened as he pulled out the string with the silver ring. When the two had first arrived in Riften, he had had his eyes set on recruiting the Khajiit because of the known thieving talent of her race. Noting the closeness she had to Valentyne, he had taken the ring without their noticing when they entered the Bee and Barb in the hopes of her wanting to help him out in return for it. He didn't know how Valentyne realized this, but somehow he had and it left him with a wonderful feeling of pride in the boy.

"Sharp eye, lad. You certainly have your share of surprises." Valentyne took the ring and tied it back around his neck with a grin. "How did you figure out I took it?"

"My ring looks far too cheap and… shall we say, not appealing? Most thieves wouldn't bother themselves with it, especially with my coin purse being out for the eyes to see so plainly. Last night I didn't get a single moment of slumber, so I managed to sort this whole cluster of a mess out. I know of the Khajiits' talent for thievery, and by the disappointment on your face last night I figured that your real intent was to recruit Durga into this little business you have under the streets of Riften. You judged that Durga was close to me, thus if you managed to get me in a panic, Durga would immediately feel obliged to help you out to gain my ring back. In the most complete honesty, it was just a simple guess." His voice had been one of the most appealing things the three had heard in a long time, and they found themselves sitting at the very edges of their seats to listen to his theory. He had every detail precise.

"Seems you have more talent then you let off." Delvin mumbled, seeming to alert to Valentyne that it wasn't just himself and Brynjolf.

"Oh, excuse my rudeness. I did not even notice the company we had. My name is Valentyne, but if you prefer a shorter term for it, you may simply call me V. I harbor no preference in the matter." After the introductions were given, Valentyne sat down next to Brynjolf, quiet once more, but the pride was still clear on his face.

"So tell me, V," Vex began, gaining the boys attention. "How did you manage to make it down here?" To this, Valentyne beamed; eager to tell this tale as well.

"Well, it was quite simple really. Although I could have had a word of warning to the delinquents I had to face." To this, Valentyne gave a weary glance to Brynjolf, who smiled back at him. "The first three were rather easy to get by. They figured I was just a waste of time, I do believe, to fight me. I slipped by them without a single word. It was the last one that gave me trouble. I simply had a little chat with the man, explained what I was doing and how I had to prove that I could actually make it down here. The only thing I really had to do was tell him a little story of mine, and he was all fine and well to let me pass by."

"So you're a bard, then?" Delvin asked as he took a sip of his ale.

"That I am, and have been since I could muster a proper sentence." That would explain the appealing texture of his voice. Although, even for a bard there was something even more appealing to the way he approached a conversation. Brynjolf still had to figure this little part out, but he was certain that he had had enough surprises for one day.

"Well lad, your friend should be back soon. How about a drink before you go? It'll be on me." Before Valentyne could speak a word of protest, Brynjolf was calling over a man and asking for another tankard of ale. Valentyne's grimace was quickly driven away. He was used to this, and as always would suffer through it.

"Wait, Bryn, is the boy even old enough to drink?" Brynjolf hadn't even thought about this, and he looked over to Valentyne quickly. Valentyne had a look of disappointment on his face. For the first time, he felt self-conscious about his childish features. This was what made him speak the truth without thinking of how lying would get him out of an upset stomach later.

"I may seem the age of a child, but I certainly am not one. I have almost nineteen years on my life." The protective nature of his words and the way his frown looked to be a pout made the three laugh. When the man brought back the ale, the others in the tavern began to take notice in Valentyne. They slowly began to wander over, talking to the boy in disbelief and curiosity. Some took kindly to his presence, and others, such as Dirge who was still upset about the way the boy had left him in a daze, were not too pleased that he was there. Valentyne shared stories with them like the natural born bard he was, and soon the greater half of the Guild was laced around the boy's finger.

Brynjolf could only sit back and watch with pleased amusement. In the end, he had made out better in the deal. Somehow, he had to manage to keep the boy with them. It could mean the rebuilding of the Guild if he stayed.

"Seems like you actually made quite the catch with this one, Bryn." Delvin sat next to him, also seeming to be pleased with the boy. The past few recruits had been complete failures. Most couldn't even make it the Flagon, and the ones that did were dead by the first job they were given. This boy had somehow managed to make quite the name for his self already. The surprise was a rather pleasing one.

"Aye… That I did. The lad has talent. If only we could teach him to waver away from his strict morals and get him to stay." Brynjolf smiled at the boy, and when Valentyne glanced over at him, he smiled as well. It hadn't been one of those half smiles he did when just trying to please someone. It wasn't even one of pride. It was a smile of sincerity and understanding. It lit up his face in such a way that Brynjolf almost believed that he wasn't really a boy at all. A woman trapped in a man's body was what he saw, for no Nord man, half or not (for Valentyne had told them of his racial background earlier), was that gentle and kind.

"Bah, after spending a few more hours with us, he won't want to leave. He already seems to be having a grand old time." Brynjolf could barely hear him; he was still contemplating over his idea of the boy's smile. It was true that the boy was fascinating and full of surprises, but sometimes he just caught Brynjolf completely off guard.

A few more hours could not be given in the end, for Durga walked through the door from the Ratway Vaults not too long after. Behind her, an elder man was walking quickly at her heels. Valentyne's eyes immediately lit up, and he waved her over.

"Great you have your ring back," Durga said as she noticed the string around his neck. "That means we can leave right away to Riverwood. Delphine will be waiting for us and… V, are you drinking?" The disbelief in her voice was clear as she stared at the tankards next to him. In the past hour or so he had been down there, he was offered drink after drink from the thieves. He grinned nervously at her, and Durga only shook her head. "Learn to say no, V. Now you'll be getting sick all the way there." It was true; already he could feel the nausea rolling through his gut.

"You don't drink, lad?" Brynjolf asked with slight disbelief, and the rest of the tavern seemed to be in a state of shock as well. They had all seen him drink each tankard he was given with ease, and had shown no signs of distaste to it.

"No," Durga said immediately, used to answering for her friend. "His stomach rejects every bit of alcohol it takes in. V just has this horrible habit of being unable to say no to just about everything." Valentyne hung his head a bit, scratching the back of his neck. Brynjolf saw this as his only chance to convince him to stay and seized the opportunity

"Well he certainly won't be fit for travel if that's the case, especially if you're going to Riverwood." Many of the people in the tavern looked at him skeptically. Brynjolf wasn't cold hearted, and it was true he cared for the people he called family. But he barely knew Valentyne. It seemed as if only Vex and Delvin knew the real idea behind this 'worry'. "Let the lad stay here while you go, we can watch over him."

Durga watched him for a moment, slightly confused at his offer. Valentyne too, seemed a bit uneasy at this idea. Or it was just the nausea, he couldn't tell at that point. True, he had taken a liking to these thieves surprisingly, but he didn't know how he would feel about staying with them until Durga came back for him. It left him feeling terribly vulnerable whenever Durga wasn't close. She was his shield and, in most cases, his stability. Without her he couldn't imagine being confident at all. Then again, as he thought over Brynjolf's offer, he came to the realization that he had just been perfectly confident with a group of thieves surrounding him.

"Maybe that would be best, Durga." Valentyne said at last, sparking a bit of surprise in Durga's eyes. "I would feel horrid if I slowed you down on your trip back to Riverwood. Besides, it is about time I learn to live without you, is it not?" He held her steady gaze for a moment, watching the wheels in her head turn. Durga hated to admit it, but she had actually begun to enjoy the boy's company. If anything, he was the only one who could cease her ever flaring impatient anger. And he was one of the best conversational companions she knew, always full of words of reassurance and logic. His optimism was what got her through the grueling days of non-stop travel.

"You're sure V?" She finally asked, and to this Valentyne beamed with such assurance on his decision that she didn't even need the swift nod of his head to know he had meant it. She sighed, but returned his smile. "Alright, I'll be back as soon as possible." She turned to Brynjolf, glaring in a rather threatening manner. "I expect him to still be in one piece when I arrive back to get him, Nord. I don't think I need to mention the consequences if he isn't." Brynjolf simply nodded and smiled at her, avoiding showing any form of worry about her threat.

Valentyne walked Durga to the door, the elder man following close behind. As they said their goodbyes, Durga leaned in close to the boy's ear, whispering something in utter secrecy. Brynjolf found this rather odd as the Khajiit left, but tried not to wonder about it too hard. It didn't seem to faze Valentyne at all, so he didn't let it him bother him either.

But as the boy walked back to the tavern area, her words clearly rang in his ears when the thieves let out a slight cheer at their new found ally.

_I know they seem nice now, V. But I doubt they'll take too fondly on the little tidbit of information about yourself that you fail to let people know about._

* * *

><p><em><strong>~Authors Note~<strong>_

_And there is the third chapter~! Personally one of my favorites so far, mainly because of the interaction Valentyne gets to have with the other Guild members. I just love them all, I can't help it. The next chapter might take a bit longer to upload, being that tomorrow is Saint Patrick's Day and all and I have plans. But I also need to do some serious editing to do on it. Trying to come up with Valentyne's deeper details while writing the story probably wasn't the best idea, but at least it'll be interesting! Once again, reviews and favorites are appreciated! That is all for now, ciao~!_

_Yours Eternally, Erin_


	4. Debt Collector

_**~Author's Note~**_

_Terribly sorry on the delay, I caught some sort of flu and was completely dead to the world after a very… interesting weekend. After catching up on some work I finally got the chance to edit this chapter! Plus, my friend is helping me so there shouldn't be as many mistakes. The good thing about the little break was that I got the chance to straighten out a few things of the story I was unsure about. I'll try to keep up with the updates now, and I hope you enjoy this chapter. It took me a while to finally be pleased with it. Ciao~!_

_Yours Eternally, Erin_

* * *

><p>Two days had passed since Valentyne had decided to stay with the thieves until his friend's return. Although it wasn't the most appealing place to stay at, and he was staying with people he could never agree with, he seemed to be happy enough. He had met Mercer after Durga left, and although the man wasn't pleased at all about the idea of the boy staying with them, it didn't take much for Valentyne to convince him to change his mind.<p>

All he had to do was provide nightly entertainment for the Guild.

After being bed ridden since the following morning of his first official night there, he could finally take up that task. The large quantity of ale and mead he had taken in that night left him sick and a bit delusional to Brynjolf's humor. Having the daunting task of taking care of the sick boy, it turned out to be a rather enjoyable experience during Valentyne's rants of flying goats and rainbow horses. That was before he ended up losing him for a few hours. Luckily Brynjolf had found him wandering the docks before anyone noticed his absence.

Valentyne was putting on his fur boots, which Brynjolf noticed he only ever had on when down in the sewer, when he finally decided to tell the boy of his new task.

"It seems we've found a new job for you, lad." Valentyne's wary gaze came as usual, and Brynjolf held up a hand in a gesture for him to wait and listen. "And since I know how much you hate being on the bad end of the law, I found the only one that would seem remotely ok with you." Tying his last boot swiftly, Valentyne stood up and fixed his shirt before crossing his arms in front of his chest and stared right into Brynjolf's eyes.

"Go on, you have my attention." Brynjolf knew he had to choose his words carefully by the tone of Valentyne's voice. Mercer had informed him that the boy had to at least do some work for the Guild other than simply entertaining them. If he didn't, then he had to leave, and Brynjolf didn't want that at all.

"Well, let's just say there are some people that owe the Guild some coin, and since we all know how well you are at persuasion, I thought it to be just right for you." Valentyne seemed to be pondering this idea deeply, observing every aspect of it in his mind. Every possibility of a catch to this whole scheme came to his attention, and Brynjolf saw his interest fading fast. "Unless, of course, you don't think you could handle it."

His pride flared in his eyes and Brynjolf knew the boy wouldn't say no. It was true Valentyne had made some very good observations on Brynjolf's own way of doing things, but he himself had made some very clean observations on the young lad as well. Like any male, Valentyne's pride was his button to push when trying to get a reaction out of him, and in this case, the exact button that needed to be tampered with to get him to say yes.

"You still yet doubt my abilities, Brynjolf? How foolish. Come now, give me the exact details and I will once again show you what I am able to do." He told him of the three people he would have to go to and how much they owed the Guild. Valentyne listened, nodding his head when needed. Finally, after the locations of the three were given, Valentyne finally uncrossed his arms. "I am coming to the assumption that you will not tell me exactly why they owe the Guild money, will you?"

"You know me so well already, lad." Brynjolf grinned down at him. Valentyne nodded, still watching him with a look of unease. "Now's the best time to go, so you can be back in time to do what you do best for tonight." This brought a little light to the boy's eyes. Entertaining was what he lived for, and he enjoyed it more than anything.

Brynjolf watched the boy leave through the secret passage under the graveyard with a look of satisfaction on his face. It would be a difficult task to get the boy to comply too any level of thievery, but Brynjolf had confidence in himself to get him to do it eventually.

"Off on his first real job for the Guild?" Delvin asked, and Brynjolf nodded. Delvin was amongst the many in the Guild to take an immediate liking to Valentyne. His voice was appealing and the stories he told with it were entertaining. Plus, Brynjolf had told him how the boy had acted on his hangover. The humor they got from Valentyne was never ending. If it wasn't one thing with him, it was the other.

"That he is. It's going to take some time to get him used to the idea of anything else other than simply collecting debts from people, though." Delvin nodded in understanding, but he, like Bryn, wasn't very concerned about it. It wasn't that he wanted him to leave, just the opposite. Since the boy had arrived, even if it had only been a few days, the Guild was already a slightly happier place to be. He had brought a friendly warmth with him that was hard to ignore. No one was going to let Valentyne slip away that easily.

Valentyne maneuvered his way through the crowd of people, pockets full with two large coin purses. He had made quick work of the first two, sweetening himself up to them before laying down the hard truth of the matter. They either paid their debt or another, more hostile person would soon come. Valentyne had made it seem like he was only looking out for their well-being. Of course, those two had been female and had found it difficult to deny such a cute and innocent looking boy. He had a sinking feeling that his current luck would fail him with the next debt he had to collect.

As he walked into the Pawned Prawn, he came face to face with a partially bald Nord man who Valentyne knew to be Bersi Honey-Hand. When he took notice of his presence, Valentyne could see the slightest presence of a smug expression unfolding itself on his face. Yes, his luck had been left at the door in that moment, and Valentyne felt completely alone.

"Shopping for you parents, kid? Or are you one of the new orphans at Honorall?" Valentyne tensed at the cruelty behind his words, and tried his very best to keep his calm. In normal circumstances, none of this would have bothered him. But something was causing his pride to flare up more than usual. Maybe it was being around a bunch of thieves and he felt as if he had to meet a certain expectation. Or it could have just been that he was finally starting to learn to speak up for himself and he liked the feeling of self-gratification he got out of it.

"Do pardon the sudden intrusion, sir-" Valentyne had to bite his own tongue to avoid adding venom to the suffix. "-but I have a message for you from Brynjolf." At this, he seemed taken aback. He stuttered a bit, but then realization hit and his composure regained itself.

"Oh you're the little brat I've been hearing about. Pathetic, Brynjolf doesn't even bother to show up himself and sends a kid instead." Bersi shook his head, a smirk on his lips. "You may have been able to sweet talk your way to Haelga and Keerava, but you won't be getting a damn septim out of me." His words were said with such finality that Valentyne knew there was no point in trying to convince him. But he still had to try; he didn't want to disappoint Brynjolf.

"Then you will be answering to someone much more threatening soon. It would be in your best interest to take what I am saying to heart, sir." He let the words escape through clenched teeth. His eyes that rarely ever showed a spark of anger narrowed. Bersi found it hard not to flinch.

"Petty threats and fist waving are not going to sway me. You people are all talk, and everybody knows it!" For whatever reason, this flared Valentyne's pride the most. He wasn't even technically apart of the Guild, more or less be considered close to them. Yet it was his kind heart that made him willing to protect them. Knowing them or not, they had given him a place to stay and had shown decent hospitality. Speaking in their favor was the least he could do. "Pay you to protect me? Hah, you can't even protect yourselves!" Valentyne found it hard not to stifle his hidden violent nature. He had never thought once that violence was a good way to go about anything. Civil conversation was just a fine solution to anything, but now he found himself doubting it completely.

"I can almost assure you in the most formal way possible that we can protect ourselves." The 'we' came out naturally; he hadn't even intended to have it there. The man scoffed, as if catching his bluff on actually being a part of the Guild. Valentyne didn't falter though, just stared evenly at him. Fear wouldn't strike him down, not at that moment in which he had to prove himself. He could be more than just a scared little child, like he had been told so many times before by his old friends.

"Don't fool yourself, boy. You aren't any more a part of that pity party then I am a part of the royal court." Valentyne couldn't handle it anymore. This man had pushed him far off the edge and the sudden surge of rage could be felt coursing through every inch of his fragile frame.

"If you know what is damn well and good for you, 'sir', you will hush that flapping trap you call a mouth before I help you out with such a _difficult_ task. You have not a single idea what you speak of; you run your mouth blindly, my friend and you shall not fool me with your false bravado. I can see the fear hidden under that smug expression on your ugly face." Valentyne jabbed a finger into the man's chest, standing on the very tips of his toes to be right in Bersi's face. His threats seeped into his skin, and Bersi couldn't help but tremble. He knew Valentyne couldn't really do anything to hurt him, but his words were like blades piecing his skin. Narrowing his eyes, Bersi regained his composure at the thought of possibly being bested by a kid.

"Why you no good little brat, I'll make you eat those words." Quicker than Valentyne could see, Bersi raised his hand and let the back of it come down hard onto Valentyne's face. The brutal force of it caused him to fall back onto the floor and tears formed in his eyes from the sting. He could only sit in astonished shock. Although he had partially expected Bersi to hit him, he hadn't imagined he would actually go through with it. Before he could come to acceptance with this fact, he suddenly felt a boot dig into his side. Letting out a shrill cry, he doubled over from the pain. "Is that all you got, boy? Where's all that smack you were talking before?"

Valentyne began to tremble as a loud ringing filled his ear, deafening out any other sound. The fear overcame him faster than he would have like, and he suddenly felt like the weak little boy he always had been. He had let all the false hope of actually being worth something get to him, and now he was going to pay with a beating and Brynjolf's disappointment. He didn't know what was worse.

Clutching his eyes together tightly, he braced himself for another kick. After a moment of it nothing happening, he slowly opened his eyes to see a brown haired girl holding Bersi up against the wall by his shirt collar. Remembering her from the market on the day he had planted the ring on Brand-Shei, he realized that she was also from the Guild. Sapphire was her name, if he remembered correctly. He hadn't really had any conversation with her, having been busy with everyone else at the time he took notice of her.

She growled words of hatred at him, and after a few threats were given he was handing over a coin purse. Tossing him onto the ground, she quickly measured the weight of it in her hand and was pleased. Then, she turned to Valentyne with such distaste he immediately felt the fear return to well in his gut. Her sharp eyes reminded him of a wolf, watching and waiting for an animal weaker then it to scurry by. She yanked him up by his shirt and dragged him out the door without a single word. Once away from the crowd, she gave Valentyne a shove into a building. Barely catching his balance, he looked up at her to take her cruel words head on.

"You idiot, what were you even thinking back there?" Her voice was hushed, but the anger was clear. "He had false bravado? You can't even defend yourself! If it weren't for me, we'd be picking up the pieces of your remains somewhere outside Riften!" Her frustration in him was clear as she shook her head in disappointment. Valentyne felt like shrinking into the wall and hiding away forever. He was ashamed of himself as it was, but being told by someone else of what a failure he was didn't help the matter. "And you actually tried to place yourself in with us? Are you daft? A weak little runt like you will _never_ be a part of us. Get that through your thick skull, and maybe we will have a mutual distaste for one another."

The more Valentyne thought about it, the more he thought himself a fool. Had he actually imagined himself, for a few moments, a part of the Guild? Maybe he really was daft. He didn't want to be a thief, nor did he want to associate with them by any means. He must be a child, for being so naïve as to actually believe that staying in Riften by himself was a good idea. Valentyne needed Durga more than ever in that moment. Not to be protected from Sapphire, but just to know that someone was around who cared about him. And who knew him.

None of these thieves knew him for who he was. They didn't know how he operated or what made him tick. Nor did they know what pleased him. He was a simple lad, with a love for stories and poetry. He didn't need glamor or money to be in a content state of mind. He was just a simple travelling bard trying to support a family back home, no more, no less. But they couldn't possibly understand that.

Sapphire tossed the coin purse to him without saying another word and stalked off, but Valentyne knew what it meant. She didn't like him, and that was final.


	5. Lacking Confidence

_**~Authors Note~**_

_This chapter is a bit short, being that it's really just one of those little filler chapters. I never realized how small my chapters really are until I started looking over different fanfictions. I don't know if I want to make them any longer, though. It would be a little different if I updated the chapters every week or something like that. Should I make them longer? But anyway, enjoy this little chapter of slight angst~!_

_Yours Eternally, Erin_

* * *

><p>The Flagon was almost completely empty when Valentyne returned. It was just Brynjolf and Delvin sitting at a table, with Vekel cleaning a few tankards and Dirge at his usual spot. They hadn't even heard him enter, but suddenly there were three coin purses in front of the book Brynjolf had been reading. He shot his gaze up only to meet a blank stare.<p>

"There, all the money they owed to you. I shall take my leave now." Brynjolf wasn't even able to congratulate him before he stalked off into the Cistern. Delvin shot him a look of confusion, and Brynjolf returned it. He knew that look all too well; hurt pride. Judging by how Sapphire had stormed in earlier, he could only guess that the lad had gotten into a bit of trouble with one of the three and Sapphire had had to step in and help. She still couldn't accept the task of watching over Valentyne, and must have taken it out on him.

Closing the book, he decided to follow Valentyne. He found him on one of the beds, hugging his knees and staring at the wall. He held himself in such a manner that he would fall apart if he didn't. His facial expression, blank and unwavering, gave away none of the inner turmoil he was facing. It was all in his eyes. Usually filled with such life, they were completely dead. Whatever Sapphire had said to him was obviously bothering him.

"I apologize, Brynjolf. It did not go quite as well planned as I had hoped." Valentyne spoke as soon as Brynjolf was close enough to hear his mumbling. He was under the assumption that Sapphire had ranted and raved about his failure to anyone who would listen as soon as she arrived back. Why shouldn't she have? Valentyne was a failure, and he had no problem admitting it, for it was true. And failures deserved to be mocked. "Maybe it would be for the best if I just keep to the job I was originally assigned."

"Don't be ridiculous, lad. You did a fine job. You got the money didn't you? That's more than the other recruits we've had could say." Valentyne only shook his head. It wasn't enough for him, not at all.

"I may have obtained their debts, but not without some assistance. I should not have needed any help… at all. If I were well enough on my own like any other… I just cannot do it, Brynjolf. I am sorry." He still refused to look at Brynjolf; just kept staring at the wall as if it held the answers to everything he had once wondered about. Brynjolf sighed, and took a step closer to him.

"Valentyne…" Suddenly, a series of tremors shook him. As if, by just saying his name, Valentyne had come to some horrible realization that only he understood. In shame of losing his composure, he buried his face into his knees. Brynjolf put a gentle hand on his shoulder, shaking him a little. "Come on, lad. It isn't that bad."

"Yes it is!" It was a shrill cry that rang through the Cistern, alerting a few of the other Guild members of Valentyne's current predicament. He stared up at Brynjolf, tears just on the brim of his eyes. But he wouldn't let them fall free. If there was one thing Valentyne wouldn't do it was cry in self-pity. Rant and rave a bit, maybe. But he wasn't even worth his own tears in his eyes. "You would not understand. Everything I have ever done has needed to be held up by someone else or failure would be imminent. Can you comprehend how it feels to be so useless? You, of all people? It is exhausting to live in this constant disappointment of who you are… I should be better than this. I should be and I know it but yet… I cannot fix it. Every time I get to a point where I feel I suddenly may be able to change, everything crashes around me when I realize how terrified I am. I thought I could best Bersi, but as soon as he laid the first hit… That was it. It was all over, and I was left the fool; crumpled and broken on the floor… But who am I to spew my nonsense to you, Brynjolf? I apologize."

Brynjolf hadn't said a single word as Valentyne spoke. He just listened, watching as he struggled with his words. Valentyne hadn't been able to keep eye contact the entire time, clearly uncomfortable as he spilled his emotions out in a puddle on the floor. Brynjolf could still remember when he was young and had felt exactly the same way. Always afraid of disappointing someone; living on the edge of fear of not being good enough. He did understand, completely. Before the Guild, he had been a scared little boy like Valentyne, scampering through his hometown and stealing just to gain an ounce of approval from his mentor. In that moment, he could almost see himself in Valentyne. Granted, he hadn't been that old when he finally realized he was better than his ridiculous fear, but there wasn't much of a difference between his past self and him.

Finally, he sighed, and squeezed the boys shoulder reassuringly. Valentyne looked back up at him, his eyes now a crystal blue from the unshed tears. In any other circumstance, they would have been absolutely stunning. But this was not any other circumstance, and Brynjolf felt as if it were his right to try and cheer the boy up.

"Well then, we better get started on some training for you, ay lad?" Valentyne searched his face for a minute, scrutinizing every aspect. When he finally realized Brynjolf was completely serious, his face lit up and the spark of life was back in his eyes.

"You truly mean that?" Valentyne sat on his knees in front of Brynjolf, reminding him of a small puppy excited to see his master. Brynjolf nodded with a smile gracing his face, and if he could have captured the boy's happiness in that moment, he would never have been sad again. Valentyne jumped at him, hugging around his stomach so tightly it surprised Brynjolf that he had that much strength. It wouldn't be so hard to train the boy in the end after all. Brynjolf chuckled a bit and patted Valentyne's head.

"One condition first, lad," Brynjolf said, and Valentyne looked up at him curiously. "I don't want to hear another word about being a disappointment, understand? As far as I can see, you have more talent than any person I've ever met." The soft pink spread across Valentyne's was followed by a sheepish grin, and he nodded. After Valentyne splashed some cold water onto his face to cease its redness, Brynjolf led him over to the archery area. As they entered the room, Brynjolf smiled at him. "And a word of advice lad… When Sapphire gets on your case again, don't let her get to you. You should know as a bard even if one person out of the whole audience disagrees, the show must go on."

* * *

><p>"It's pathetic, Mercer. Absolutely pathetic." Mercer had only been listening with a half an ear to Sapphire's story about the day's events with Valentyne. If it hadn't been for his minor curiosity in the boy, he wouldn't have listened at all. But as he watched Niruin show him how to properly string a bow, he felt as if this boy was somehow important. Maybe not a special 'asset' to the guild as Brynjolf had gone on about, but he certainly seemed useful enough. The way he held himself when Brynjolf had presented him to Mercer held such confidence that was not normally found in someone as frail as that. Whether it was an act or not, he certainly pulled it off well enough for it to be believable. His style about going into and out of a conversation was outstanding as well; Mercer himself couldn't even fathom being as natural at speech as Valentyne. Yes, the boy was useful… to a point, of course. "What do you think, Mercer?"<p>

"I think," Mercer said, leaning over his desk to get closer to her. "That you should continue to do as you were ordered to and watch over the kid. Brynjolf may or may not be right about him, we won't know until we test that out. I have a very… special job for him, once he gets a few days of training in." Sapphire's face twisted into disbelief, then annoyance. She only nodded her head and took her leave. There was no argument to be given; Mercer was the Guild Master and he was to be obeyed no matter what.

Sitting back into his chair, he moved his attention back over to Valentyne. He was taking a careful aim at the target, his hand steady. With a sharp twang, the arrow pierced the air and hit the stuffed man. From his spot across the Cistern, he couldn't clearly see where it had hit, but from the excitement that appeared on Valentyne's face and the pride on Brynjolf's, it had to have at least hit close to the red center. Valentyne jumped with glee, clearly happy with himself. This caused Mercer to frown. There was something odd about Valentyne that he had yet to fully understand… Something far too different for it to be normal in any circumstance. It was true, he was childish and Mercer would accept that naivety to a point, but there had to have been something else that stirred him.

He watched as Brynjolf dragged the boy off to the other training area, and decided not to think about it too much. The boy proved to be too honest for his own good, and couldn't even cope with having planted the ring on Brand-Shei. Mercer hardly had to worry about the boy hiding anything. With a sigh he opened up his book and got back to work.


	6. Childish Activity

_**~Authors Note~**_

_Hello everyone~! This may be the last chapter for a week or so. It is spring break and I'm down in Myrtle Beach working as well as vacationing. My work is a very hectic thing, and is constantly keeping me busy, and even though I'm mainly working at night I still have to spend time with my many friends and family down here. I will try and get the next chapter up soon, but for now here is the sixth!_

_Yours Eternally, Erin_

* * *

><p>The air was crisp and cool as it gently led the falling leaves in their final dance before their carcasses were left to rot on the cold ground. Hearthfire was coming to an end quickly; its tired arms welcoming Frostfall happily to take its place. Beyond the horizon, the sun was just beginning to peak up, accenting the sky with a soft purple hue. Besides the song birds, the loud nickering of a horse was the only sound in the early morning hours.<p>

"Hush now, you shall wake the dead with that mindless racket you are producing." Valentyne stroked the stallion's long neck, brushing out his thick mane with an ebony comb. He complied after stomping his hoof a bit. Valentyne laughed, just as soft and gentle as the wind. "You are such a child."

Feeling as if he had been neglecting his friend, Valentyne had woken up a bit early to take care of him before heading off to another training session with Niruin. Valentyne had been right about the awkward feeling of swordplay; it simply wasn't for him. Yet, when he held a bow, it felt almost as right as holding his flute. This being so, he had quickly learned the basics, much to Niruin's delight. At first the elf had been uneasy at training him, fearing that it would be just like training an infant to walk.

Aside from marksman training, he had been getting little tips from Delvin on how to properly sneak. Valentyne didn't understand why he would need it, though. He had already told Brynjolf he refused to do anything other than being the debt collector. In his mind, Valentyne didn't think he even had to comply with that. He entertained at the Flagon every night, so much so that he was running out of stories to tell. Maybe the extra work was due to his refusal to sing. It was possible; many had been disappointed when he said he wouldn't.

Getting the final knot out of the stallion's mane, Valentyne stroked his face, rubbing the white streak of hair that ran down his nose. Valentyne snuggled his face into his nose, and in response the stallion huffed and nuzzled him back, knocking off his cap in the process. The hot breath tickled his neck, and Valentyne giggled, unaware of the sudden appearance of a man behind him.

"Excuse me lass, but have you seen a boy by the name of Valentyne?" Whipping around, Valentyne was surprised to see Brynjolf standing there. His grin was nothing but teasing, causing Valentyne's cheeks to be tinted with a rose pink. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, his pout like frown on his face. Brynjolf chuckled, patting Valentyne on the back gently. "You never cease to entertain, do you?"

"Not in your eyes, that is for sure." He put his cap back on, tucking his hair under it. Brynjolf watched as Valentyne turned back to the horse swiftly, trying to hide the growing embarrassment on his face. Having noticed him leave early that morning, he grew a little worried and decided to follow him. Valentyne had this childish way of always asking for permission to leave the Cistern. Brynjolf couldn't understand why, but none-the-less he flattered the boy with orders. So when Valentyne had up and snuck out without a single word to anyone, Brynjolf followed.

He had halfheartedly wanted him to be up to something. They still couldn't waver his innocence, and Mercer was growing more impatient as the days passed. Of course, the other half was relieved. Valentyne was one of the only people he knew to have such a pure heart. He feared if Valentyne were to go down the path of thievery, he would never be the same.

It was a fatherly reaction, he knew, but he found no harm in it as of yet. It would save his ass in the end anyway. Keeping a close watch on Valentyne would keep him unscathed and would keep Brynjolf's head on his neck when Durga returned.

"What's its name?" Brynjolf asked to break the silence. Valentyne looked up at him, one eyebrow raised with such a look in his eyes that made it seem he was seeing Brynjolf with two heads.

"Name? Why, he does not hold a name." The horse huffed, bobbing his head as if in agreement.

"No name? Then what do you call him?"

"What is in a name, Brynjolf? That which we call a rose, by any other word, would smell as sweet," Valentyne said, stroking the horse's neck. "One does not need a name to be, one simply is and that is the truth in the matter."

"Ever the poetic one, I see." Valentyne smiled up at him, indefinite pride in his eyes.

"Though, I find you to have a point. Visual identification would be easier with a name to go by. Any suggestions?" Brynjolf thought, looking the horse over. The horse was large and muscular, with depthless black eyes. His mane was more auburn than the rest of him, and the only other white mark on him was a diamond on its left shoulder blade.

"Well, he is certainly a strong looking one. Seems fast too, and very nimble. With that auburn mane of his, he reminds me of someone I know." Valentyne looked at him with a baffled expression, and it almost made Brynjolf burst into laughter.

"Are you suggesting I name him after you?" He emphasized the 'you', causing Brynjolf to frown.

"What? You don't you think it fits?" Valentyne began to laugh loudly. It was one of the most feminine things about him, even more so than his curly red hair. It was high pitched but soft at the same time, and it always started and ended with a few giggles. It was a lovely sound that he enjoyed to hear, but Brynjolf couldn't help but tease. "Whatever, lass. I thought it was great idea." Valentyne hushed up immediately; face returning to a pink hue as he tried his best to make a threatening glare.

"Y-you can take that word right back into your mouth, Brynjolf," He said in the softest stutter. He almost put his hands on his hips in a very feminine manner, but he casually made it seem as if he were just folding his arms in front of his chest. Unfortunately, Brynjolf's eye was much better than to be deceived so easily. He shook his head, letting out a soft chuckle.

"Alright, I apologize, 'lad'," Brynjolf said, and Valentyne nodded his head with his chin held high, satisfied. "We should head back to the Cistern now. Everyone else will be waking up soon." Valentyne put his horse back into the stable, kissing his nose. It was the sweetest of actions, and Brynjolf found himself watching in fascination. There was something abnormal about Valentyne, it was obvious. But what that something was eluded him. Was he just raised to be so gentle? So innocent? Why didn't it bother Brynjolf himself? The few weak recruits he had dealt with in the past he had chastised endlessly, but with Valentyne it was different. Maybe it was that spark of confidence he had hidden underneath. That must have been it. There wasn't another explanation for it.

"Are you just going to dawdle your day away standing around with such a baffled expression, Brynjolf? Or do you wish to follow me?" Snapping out of his daze, he found Valentyne's grin infecting and ended up grinning right back.

They walked into Riften, the streets empty other than the few early risers. It was easier for Valentyne to walk confidently around by his self, and didn't find the need to walk as close to Brynjolf as he used to. He just walked quietly, glancing around as he always did. Unlike Brynjolf, who was always on the lookout for an easy target, Valentyne had earnest curiosity in his eyes. Even though none of the sights were new, he always found something to marvel in. Sometimes he would even comment on it to Brynjolf or whoever else he was with.

"Are you Valentyne?" Both turned around to face the courier, who was breathing heavily. Valentyne nodded with a look of pity for the man. "Here, a letter for you." He was gone as soon as the letter was out of his possession, bolting out of Riften to deliver more letters. Valentyne studied it for a minute, and then opened and began reading quietly to himself. Brynjolf watched as his face turned from that of surprise to confusion, and finally his face was emotionless.

"What does it say lad?" Brynjolf asked as Valentyne folded the letter and stowed it into his pocket. For a minute, Valentyne stared at the ground, lost in thought. Finally, he answered.

"Durga will not be arriving to retrieve me for a while. She said she has other tasks that she wishes not to involve me in to complete first." He frowned, scrunching his nose a bit. Vaguely, Brynjolf could see him gnawing on the inside of his lip. It bothered Valentyne to have to stay longer. It wasn't like he didn't enjoy the company of the Guild, but his guilt was slowly starting to eat away at him. It was like a specter, following him wherever he went. Whenever he awoke from slumber, it followed him through his morning routine, weighing on his shoulders. Every time he left a house with a coin purse in his pocket, it was waiting for him outside with that knowing grin, hissing in his ear. _I know what you've done, boy. _But still, he found himself collecting the money of the poor when asked. Guilt was just laughing at his gullibility even more now.

"I'm sure Mercer wouldn't mind," Brynjolf said, giving him a pat on the back, clueless to the real reason behind his distress. Valentyne tried his best to smile up at him, letting Brynjolf stay in the dark. "This will give us more time to train you anyway." That was one good thing about it, Valentyne supposed. Still, he couldn't shake the unease off as they finished their walk to the Cistern.

Mercer was behind his desk as always, scribbling intently on a piece of paper. When they neared, he stuffed it away into his book, glaring at them for interrupting whatever it was he had been doing. Aside from Sapphire, Mercer was the only one who still didn't show pleasure from Valentyne's presence. Brynjolf said he didn't really care for anyone, but it still seemed to bother him. It also made him feel uncomfortable to be under that cold gaze.

"Looks like the lad will be staying with us a bit longer than expected," Brynjolf said when Mercer asked of what they wanted. "Durga won't be returning for quite some time." His grimace seemed to deepen, but whether it was a normal reaction or not, Valentyne couldn't tell. After a moment, Mercer nodded and stood up straight.

"Well, if he's to stay, then more work needs to be done. I will not have a child playing around with bows and arrows any longer." Valentyne stiffened, but had a hard time figuring out if it was because of the idea of a new 'job' or if it was the insult he had thrown at him. He fought the urge to scoff as Mercer continued to speak. "I think it's time we put your so called 'talents' to the test."

Brynjolf looked at him, disbelief written all over his face. "Wait a moment… You're not talking about Goldenglow, are you? Even our little Vex couldn't get in. How can you expect someone as new to the game as him to make it?" Valentyne felt a little hurt at this. He knew Brynjolf was right, but he still didn't like to hear it said in such a manner. It made him feel weaker than normal.

"If he really is as amazing as you say he is, Brynjolf, let him prove it," Mercer shot Brynjolf a cold look, then turned back to Valentyne. "Goldenglow is critically important to one of our largest clients, so I expect you not to screw up by acting the foolish runt you are." After telling Brynjolf to instruct Valentyne on what to do, he sent them off.

"What a tool bag," Valentyne grumbled unexpectedly when they were alone in the training room area, causing Brynjolf to look at him with one eyebrow raised. "I cannot believe this. Why is it that he hates me so? Have I done something to spark an angry flame between us? No, I have not." He sat in the middle of the floor after pacing some, staring into the groves of the stone with a distant look in his eyes.

"Don't worry about it lad," Brynjolf said, leaning against the wall by the door. "He acts like that towards everyone. He is actually very impressed with you; he wouldn't be sending you on this job if he wasn't."

"Either that or he wants me to suffer an early end." Brynjolf shot him a look. Valentyne sighed, leaning back and staring at the ceiling. "Fine, I shall keep quiet. Now tell me what illegal act I will be partaking in now?" Brynjolf felt a twinge of regret in his heart at that. He had made it sound like he was truly suffering by doing this.

"Goldenglow Estate is a bee farm; they raise the wretched little things for honey. It's owned by a smart-mouth wood elf named Aringoth. We need you to teach him a lesson by burning down three of the estate's hives and clearing out the safe in the main house." Valentyne stared at him, mortified.

"Kill the bees? That is horrible, Brynjolf! They have done nothing of harm to you. Nor to I. Or anyone else in this Guild for that matter." Brynjolf crossed his arms in front of his chest, raising an eyebrow once again. Huffing, Valentyne frowned and stared back at the floor. "You strike my heart coldly, I hope you realize. What is the catch?"

"The catch is that you can't burn the whole place to the ground. The important client Mercer mentioned would be furious if you did." Valentyne scrunched his nose, but nodded simply, going against speaking up again. "Now, on Aringoth's case, Maven prefers him alive… I'm sure you will have no problem in making sure of that." Brynjolf smiled at him, trying to lighten his mood. It failed; Valentyne only fell farther into his remorse. The weight on his shoulders couldn't get any worse than this. "Just remember, lad. The Guild has a lot riding on this. I don't want to imagine what Mercer would do if you mucked it up." Well that was wonderful. Valentyne felt an impossible amount of figurative weight on his shoulders, and they sunk down lower.

"Sounds pleasant," He mumbled, glancing up at Brynjolf. "When is the best time for me to venture to my inevitable doom?" Valentyne was definitely a bard; he always knew when to be overly dramatic about a situation. Sighing deeply, Brynjolf rubbed his temples. Throwing his guilt onto his own shoulders wasn't helping his case, at all.

"Look lad, you should have known this was going to happen eventually. You don't simply stay with us and expect not to work. And no, entertaining us is not enough. Neither is simply collecting debts. Unless you plan on camping out in the woods until the lass gets back, you'll find it best to listen and do as you are told." Valentyne fell silent, looking like a scolded child. Brynjolf just starred evenly at him, and when he was certain the boy wouldn't argue any more points with him, he continued. "As to when you leave, that is all up to you. I would talk to Vex before you go, though. She may have barely made it out alive, but she will be able to tell you all she found out about it." Valentyne just nodded, still sitting cross legged on the floor. And that's where Brynjolf left him, at least his body. His mind, he knew, had traveled much father off to debate every part of this. Brynjolf didn't expect to hear from the boy the rest of the night.


	7. Story Time

_**~Authors Note~**_

_Hello again~! All of the alerts were a wonderful thing to come home to after my busy 'vacation'. I hardly spent more than 6 hours in my hotel room other than to sleep, and I loved it. Got some inspiration stirring from working as well! I wrote this on the car ride home, since I had 16 hours to kill. It's the start of, hopefully, longer chapters. _

_Valentyne is, in fact, 19. I won't say much of anything else about the matter, for his secret may possibly be at risk of being revealed if I do._

_The last chapter, I forgot to mention, held a Romeo and Juliet reference in case anyone caught it. There will be a few more here and there, since I do love it so. I will cease my mindless banter here, and I hope you enjoy chapter seven!_

_Yours Eternally, Erin_

* * *

><p>"Would you quit your pacing, Bryn? You'll wear the stone down to nothing if you keep it up!" Once again, Delvin's words went straight through the Nord without him even taking notice. Sighing, Delvin gave up and left him to get a drink. His friend had been getting more anxious as each day passed without a single word from Valentyne. When they had heard the news of the boy's success from Maven, they were filled with such excitement that they could hardly wait to congratulate him. So they waited… and waited… and waited… Finally, they were beginning to suspect that he had found his untimely death on the trip home.<p>

Brynjolf hadn't slept well since Valentyne had left a week earlier. Even when he passed out from exhaustion it was restless. If anything were to happen to him… Brynjolf didn't want to think about it. He should have tried harder to convince Mercer to order Sapphire to accompany Valentyne. At least then he would have had a means of protection. If Valentyne didn't return soon, he'd have to explain to Durga and make a run for it immediately after to avoid any private body parts from being cut off. He shivered at the thought. He could see her as he paced, her deadly silver eyes burrowing into his heart and stopping it dead. So long life, it was nice working with you.

His legs were aching from constant use, but he didn't seem to notice. He bit at his lip; one of the habits he had picked up from Valentyne. It annoyed him that he didn't know where the boy was. He knew he wasn't dead. No, Brynjolf had doubted his talents enough to know to expect the unexpected. Was Valentyne showing a humorous side of himself? Was this just a sick joke? If it was, it sure as hell wasn't funny anymore.

Running his hands through his uncombed hair, he sighed. He was debating on whether or not to go looking for him. Mercer wouldn't like it, but then again he didn't like Brynjolf being a walking Draugr either.

"If I didn't know better," Mercer had said. "I'd say you actually cared for the runt." Luckily, Mercer did know better, and had sent him away to get a drink at the Flagon. Brynjolf had yet to make it there. The taste of mead was tempting, but his worry rang strong. Gods, what was wrong with him?

"Bryn! Come in here, we got a surprise for you!" Delvin's voice finally reached him, and Brynjolf grumbled in annoyance. What kind of 'surprise' could possible please him? Nothing, he imagined. Unless it was news of Valentyne's arrival, he didn't want anything to do with it.

When he walked into the Flagon, he noticed most of the Guild crowded around a single table. Brynjolf, with narrow eyes, walked up to them, moving the people away to look down at the boy smiling up at him.

"Hello, dear Brynjolf. You seem unrested, is there something that plagues you?" Valentyne cooed, earning a few snickers from the crowd. Brynjolf grunted in response, arms folded in front of his chest as he watched him. Valentyne seemed to be in perfect shape; no cuts or bruises to be seen. "As you can see, I am in a state of perfect health."

"Why make such a statement lad?" Brynjolf eyed him carefully, watching a bit of a devious smile reach his face.

"I would have to be blind to not see the worry wrought upon your face." Twitching slightly at the laughter that filled the tavern, Brynjolf narrowed his eyes more. First he disappeared for an entire week without a word of warning, and then Valentyne decided he would test his luck a little more. It wasn't looking too promising for him in the near future.

"At least I can find my way around Riften without accidentally stepping into the wrong house," Brynjolf retorted, causing the smug look to wipe clean off Valentyne's face. _Good._ "Accidentally wander off the only path back here, lad? Or were you just sitting back and smelling the flowers?" His voice was complete disproval as he made Valentyne shrink farther into his chair. Brynjolf would certainly let the boy have it for making him worry about plans of his own funeral.

"Aw don't chastise the boy Bryn," Delvin said, patting Valentyne's shoulder in a reassuring manner. Brynjolf glared over at him, telling him that he wasn't helping any. Delvin shook his head. "You haven't even let him explain himself." He watched them for a minute, and finally Brynjolf sighed, his anger slowly receding at Valentyne's frowning pout. He held his stern gaze, though, as he pulled a chair over and sat down in front of him. Grabbing a tankard from Vekel, Brynjolf told Valentyne to go on with his story with a stiff nod.

"Where to begin?" Valentyne questioned himself, leaning over a bit on his chair as he looked upward, a method of thinking he usually did. His tale wasn't horribly long, but it had to be edited a bit here and there for his own sake. There were certain things the Guild wasn't to know about his… process of getting in and out of Goldenglow. If they suspected his altering, they didn't show it, just waited quietly for him to begin. "Hm, yes. Getting into the place was quite simple really. In my history I have… well, I have dealt with elves of his kind, per say. I managed to snatch up his key for his safe while we were in a very agonizing conversation on his political stand-point in this little civil war. I will not dilly-dally with the precise details, but let us just say if I hear one more word about the Aldmeri Dominion or the Empire, I shall not be very happy.

"But, getting back on track, once I left his presence I found my way down to the cellar. Getting there was a tad bit difficult, but I managed. After the documents from the safe were stashed away- oh, which I have with me, I shall hand them to you after, Brynjolf. Where was I? Yes, locating the beehives. No problem, really. It was dark out, must have been nearing the tenth hour by then. I had been taught a bit of magic as a child, so when I arrived at my targets, I quickly did away with three of them. And I was done, I thought myself to be in the clear. That was my mistake. While sneaking away, I did not come to realize that one of the mercenaries had been following me, and suddenly I was dodging away from a blade. It dug rather deep into my side, and I was just barely able to run off.

"I did not want to be a burden to any of you, so I stayed away until I could heal myself into decency." As he neared the end, Brynjolf couldn't help but shake his head. Valentyne would be the death of him yet. Though he had to give him a bit of credit, even while he was bleeding out he still seemed to only have a mind set to make everyone else happy. It was a redeeming quality, one that very few carried.

Valentyne stared up at Brynjolf, seeking approval as he usually did after completing a task. It took him a minute, but finally he sighed. "Well, as long as you made it back in one piece and have completed what was asked of you, I see no reason to worry about it anymore," Brynjolf said. Valentyne grinned, with a sly look on his face. Brynjolf raised an eyebrow to this, but eventually dismissed it when the chatter began to pick up. Many people questioned Valentyne on his secret of how to get in. He simply brushed them off, telling them that, "If I were to tell you, it would not be a secret now would it?"

Vex was the only one who pressed him any farther on the matter, but she too gave up eventually. She had also been a bit worried about letting Valentyne travel by his self, though she didn't show it as much as Brynjolf had. Nor would she admit her slight sense of jealousy towards him. She had spent so long scoping that area out, and to find out that he simply waltzed right in through the front door was nothing less than aggravating for her. Brynjolf could tell that she was trying her best not to hold it against him, but he could see the slight furrow of her brows when she thought no one was watching.

The night went on rather quietly after that. Valentyne continued to sip at the cider that had been purchased special for him with only a few others talking to him. It wasn't until later in the night, when each member had indulged themselves in a few drinks that the peaceful quality disappeared. Vipir was the first one to ask Valentyne to play something on his flute, and then Thryn asked to hear one of his favorite tales. Brynjolf just watched, still trying to please himself with the fact that Valentyne was back safe and sound.

Valentyne had stayed away because he didn't want to be a burden to the Guild. A _burden._ By now he had proved himself to be more than useful, yet he still refused to realize it. Was the boy's self-worth that small? No, he was too prideful to be that way. Maybe it was just that he never wanted to have anyone worry about him, or to give him their pity. That would make sense, from what Brynjolf had noticed Valentyne hated to be pitied upon by anyone. He would always puff up his chest whenever someone looked upon him with a look of worry, or would narrow his gaze at someone who would begin to rant about his wellbeing. Whatever the case, whoever the person, Valentyne would not have their pity by any means. It was like a cup of stale milk to him.

There could have been another possibility, Brynjolf realized. What if he didn't want to feel anymore apart of the Guild then he already did? The idea hurt, and Brynjolf shifted uneasily in his chair as he took another sip of his mead. That also made sense, even more so than his previous idea. He had noticed every look of disdain he gave a new task, as if he had been shot with an arrow every time one was brought to him. The way his shoulders had begun to slouch since he first arrived also did not fail to go by him. The weight of what he was doing was proving to be a relentless thing, disrupting his sleep and rendering his appetite inexistent. It was a surprise that he had yet to just blow everything off and leave to stay at the Bee and Barb until Durga's return. Although he refused to take any money for his completed assignments, Brynjolf imagined that such a well-kept lad like Valentyne had to have had quite a bit of extra money in his coin purse. In fact, Brynjolf had snuck a peek while Valentyne was off collecting a debt, and from an estimated guess he found he had more than enough to rent out a room for a few months and still get three meals a day.

Brynjolf hadn't questioned him about it and had just brushed it off, not wanting to get the look of disapproval from the boy he could give so well. Yet sometimes he still wondered why he kept all of it. Brynjolf only ever saw him spend any of it on the bare necessities. Even when he looked at something wistfully in the market, he would look away and continue on his way almost painfully, as if an idea like that was such a boat of ludicrous that he couldn't believe he had thought it.

"Come on, V, tell us a different story!" Rune had an arm around the boy, his eyes glazed over from the amount of alcohol he had consumed. Valentyne had tried to tell one of his usual tales about a daft guard and his trials, but had been immediately brushed off by the group. Valentyne looked up at Rune sheepishly, and it seemed that just Brynjolf, who was the only sober one other than Vex, noticed the way he flinched at the sudden contact. He wasn't known for being touchy-feely, and the one time he had hugged Brynjolf in his fit of happiness had been the last time he was seen that close to anyone.

"Yeah, V! How 'bout a romantic story this time," Vipir said, snickering at the strange look he was given by Valentyne. "I'm sure the ladies would appreciate it." The teasing coo he gave towards Vex and Tonilia caused the room to fill with laughter, and both girls sneered at him.

"Oh I'm sure, Vipir. But let's not forget that we all know a certain someone has a soft spot for The Lusty Argonian Maid." Tonilia grinned at the way his face had heated up when the laughter had turned on him. Valentyne only smiled, glancing back and forth at the two parties uneasily. He fiddled with the string around his neck, wishing himself scarce at that moment.

"Ah whatever," Vipir retorted drunkenly, turning back to Valentyne. "But really, V, why not give it a try? We'd all love to hear what you come up with." The room agreed, putting Valentyne into more of a tight corner. He gnawed at his lip a bit, but kept his smile on his face.

"I am not so sure, I have not ever told a story of romance," He muttered softly, only to be bombarded by loud protest. Valentyne was having a hard time fighting them all of with his soft words, the other voices over powering him. "Really, everyone, I do not think…"

"Come on, lad, give it a shot." Everyone glanced over at Brynjolf, having forgotten that he had even been there in the first place. Valentyne stared at him for a few moments, and finally his stubborn answer subsided. He couldn't say no to Brynjolf of all people, he had already done so much for him and to deny him was like denying his father. Sighing softly, the room let out a loud cheer and gathered around him like a group of small children. Valentyne gave Brynjolf one last wary glance, the kind he would give him when he was given a new debt to collect. Brynjolf just grinned at him, sitting back in his chair and listening to him as he began.

* * *

><p><em>Our story shall start with a young girl, born and raised in the bustling city of Markarth. She was a lovely little thing, with bouncing baby curls and eyes the color of a cloudless sky. Her family was wealthy enough, with a fairly large reputation in the Reach. She was given everything a little darling such as herself could possibly ask for; a beautiful home, three warm meals a day, many lovely dresses and toys, and a family that cared for her deeply. As she aged, she grew to be a fiery little thing with a mind set for adventure. She would chase bugs deep into the outside forests, only to be scolded by the guards for wandering too far and getting lost. There was not a day that went by that she did not arrive home coated in a thick layer of dirt.<em>

_The girl had the city as a whole wrapped around her petite little finger. Everyone looked out for her as if she were their own. The salesmen in the market would let her play with their wares, noblewomen would allow her to play her games of dress-up with their belongings, and even the Jarl had found a soft spot for her. It was a perfect scenario in every sense of the word. She was happy and loved beyond belief. What more could she possibly ask for?_

_She had many younger friends as well, but there were two that stood out beyond all the rest. Both were boys; an Imperial, who was a few years her elder, and an Altmer, who was the same age as herself. The girl was closest to the Altmer, for the Imperial enjoyed simply watching over them and keeping the two out of harm's way. They were wonderful to her, and only added to her happiness._

_It was not until she began to reach into her older years that problems began to occur. The closeness she had with the Altmer began to grow stronger; some even dared to call them smitten for one another. They were inseparable, never seen outside their homes without the other. But where was the Imperial, you ask? He was still there, lurking in the shadows of their happiness with a scowl on his face. His jealousy was apparent to everyone but the Altmer and the girl. Their hushed gossip went on deaf ears around them, for their blissfulness eluded the truth. Nothing would break them down. They promised to forever live with one another no matter how much it would be frowned upon. Love was their blanket of safety, and it promised to forever keep them safe in its arms. They never suspected love to lie to them, they were only naïve children._

_It was a dark morning when everything right shattered into everything wrong. It had happened late in the night; a murder. Yet, not just any murder of some drunken lunatic. No, it would not have bothered the girl if it had been so. The Gods had deceived them that day, and she knew it when she stared down into his death shrouded eyes. If there was such a misery to render someone incapable of doing anything, it found her. She cried… and cried… and cried until she could not muster a single tear. Until she was left bed ridden from an illness that ravaged her heart to bits. Until she could no longer manage the beautiful smile that so many had come to enjoy. _

_The city took pity on her, sent her tokens of their humblest apologies in an effort to bring back her happiness. There was nothing they could do to end her misery; she was too far past the edge to be saved. Ghosts plagued her dreams, rendering sleep impossible. They poisoned her food, causing her to vomit up everything she consumed. Soon her petite body grew frail, to the point where her own mother was afraid to touch her, believing that she would break._

_The Imperial had watched her decline into oblivion. He longed to help her forsake her depression and to see the light in her eyes once more. The amount of adoration he felt towards her fueled his drive and he found himself hunting down the dogs that had caused all of it. Needless to say, he left none alive when he finally located them. When he was caught, the whole city came to watch him be carried away; even the girl that he had sinned for. When he managed to escape the hold on him to run for her, a group of men fought him off. He called for her, pleaded for her to understand. But she could only stare at him in horror. He was a monster of murderous intent, and that was all she could see of him now. It was an agonizing moment when they pulled him away, and when he looked back at her with one last bit of hope in his eyes, she could not even look at him. _

_It was after that day that she began to regain her health. She blamed herself for what had happened to her friend. If she had not allowed herself to fall so far into her despair, then he never would have done it. His worry and pity had driven him to it, and with it he had made himself mad. The girl never wanted that to happen again. It was a slow process, but eventually she was healthy enough to walk around by herself. Her happiness was back to a certain degree, but it was good enough for her family and friends. They knew that after everything she had dealt with that she would never truly be able to smile the way she once had. _

_When she turned 18 she and her family found out that their father had gotten caught up into the destructions of gambling. Almost all of their coin was gone, and the rest of it was claimed by a small group of thieves in which he owed a large debt to. He could not work, and soon they fell into poverty, barely being able to continue the upkeep on their home. The girl and her siblings did menial jobs around the city to try and help their financial situation, but it barely made a scratch on their debts. They sold heirlooms and expensive cloth, yet they still were falling faster from their pedestal. The fear of living on the streets consumed the girl, and she worried for her family. Without too much thought, she came to the conclusion that she had to leave or else her family would continue to suffer. She fled under the glare of the moon one night, taking the few belongings that still belonged to her and leaving only a note in her wake._

_Weeks passed, yet still she traveled, picking up on any small task she could find. Exhaustion hung over her but still she would not stop her movements. Her family was counting on her, and no matter how scared she was she could not quit…_

* * *

><p>A loud 'ahem' stopped Valentyne mid-sentence, and everyone followed his gaze up to see Mercer glaring down at them. Vipir and Rune scurried out of the way, allowing their leader to walk up to Valentyne, who sat up straighter to try and seem bigger, but his eyes were still wider than normal.<p>

"Why wasn't I told that you had returned?" Mercer growled, looming over Valentyne as he spoke. Unlike before, Valentyne did not completely sink down into his chair. He merely flinched, but the flare in his wide eyes alerted every one of his confidence. It wasn't a secret that Valentyne was not too fond of Mercer, everyone knew, even Mercer himself. Most just figured it was because Mercer was the leader to their little group of thieves, yet for Valentyne it was another matter entirely. He hardly even thought of Mercer as the leader, since he always got all tasks from Brynjolf. Mercer, to him, was everything he was against. He was moody, cruel, and just plain rude. He usually had to bite back snapping at him on his brief encounters with him. Even the sound of his voice was like a loud series of screeches in his ears, rendering him utterly annoyed. If it weren't for the way Mercer treated him, Valentyne would feel horrible for feeling the way he did for this man, but being called runt on a daily basis wasn't his favorite cup of tea.

"I was just about to alert you when I got a little tied up with my story telling. I do apologize." His smile seemed genuine enough, but the fake earnest was just beneath the surface. Mercer scoffed at him as he pulled out the paperwork he had stolen from Goldenglow. He took it from his hands, glancing over it quickly.

"Hm, I'll have to analyze this a bit more. For now, you may go back to whatever it was you were doing, and I suggest you don't let it come between the Guild's businesses again." The way Mercer just brushed off his hobby caused Valentyne to twitch. Brynjolf had to shoot him a look to calm himself when Mercer began to walk away, noticing the way his lips were turning into a small sneer. "Oh, and as soon as you wake tomorrow you are to go see Maven Black-Briar." That was all he said as he left, but it caused Valentyne to blink a few times. A few shot him unreadable glances, while others took this as their ticket to disband into the Cistern.

Brynjolf put a hand on his shoulder and was met with his uneasy gaze. Valentyne had heard of the Black-Briars, Maven especially. He had a right to be a little afraid of seeing her, but his soft question still made Brynjolf laugh at how serious he was being. "Shall I leave my burial plans with you then?"

"Don't worry, lad. If Maven wanted you dead you would already be in your grave." Valentyne mumbled something under his breath, but Brynjolf chose to ignore it. He gave his shoulder a tight squeeze and let go. "You might as well get in bed now before it gets too late. Don't want to be tired for tomorrow." Valentyne nodded, finishing up his cider that had long warmed by then. He handed the tankard to Vekel, thanking him with a soft smile and walking towards the Cistern, turning back to Brynjolf before going through the secret passage behind the wardrobe.

"I do apologize for causing you to fret, Brynjolf. Cross my heart, it shall not occur again." He smiled at him, and then disappeared behind the door with a gentle 'goodnight'. Brynjolf stood there for a few more minutes before sighing one last time, ordering one last tankard of mead. Maybe it was about time he left his own burial plans with someone.


	8. Between the Bars

_**~Authors Note~**_

_Quick little note beforehand! This chapter took me much longer to do, because I wanted to get a lot of Valentyne's feelings in this one. I feel like I avoid his direct thoughts too much, because I'm afraid to give off his secret too soon. So this little chapter is mainly in favor of his emotions! _

_Also, this chapter is largely inspired by the song Between the Bars. Originally sang by Elliot Smith, I personally prefer Chris Garneau's version. If you want a better feel for this chapter, it is best to start listening to it mid-way through! Well, I shall leave you too it then~!_

* * *

><p><em>Drink up, baby, stay up all night<em>_  
><em>_The things you could do, you won't but you might__  
><em>_The potential you'll be, that you'll never see__  
><em>_The promises you'll only make_

Valentyne was gone before Brynjolf woke up, this time leaving a small note on his pillow telling where he would be and when. He couldn't help but smile at the dainty cursive words and the almost precise times that were given. He would be with his stallion until eight, in which he would then head over to the Bee and Barb to speak to Maven. Depending on how long he was there he would either walk around the market or head straight back the Cistern. His estimated arrival back was between the hours of nine and ten. Signed, with sincerest regards, Valentyne.

He shook his head, chuckling softly. Valentyne sure was something else, _something_ indeed. As he folded the note, he took notice to the deep scribbles on the back of it. He could only make out the P.S. in the sentence; everything else was disfigured beyond recognition. Whatever post script he had written must not have been too important after all. Stashing it away into his pocket, Brynjolf listened to the sounds from above. Judging by the soft racket, it must have been about 8:30 in the morning. People were just starting to awaken and go on with their daily lives. Brynjolf imagined that Maven wouldn't keep him for too long, unless Valentyne proved to be a worthy conversational opponent. Thinking it over, he came to the conclusion that the boy wouldn't be back for another hour at least, and set off with his own morning routine, starting with a warm breakfast.

* * *

><p>Valentyne had barely let out a single breath the entire conversation. When he was finally dismissed, he walked out into the fresh air and exhaled deeply, allowing the tremors he had been holding back to rattle down his body. His fear of Maven had been great, but his fear of showing it was even greater. Nothing terrified him more than a woman with the power to end him with a single word. It had been a problem with Durga at first as well, but the Khajiit's friendly disposition towards him had eventually killed his terror off. But Maven… He shivered at the thought of her cold eyes taking in ever little inch of him.<p>

"So they send me a runt…" She had muttered under her breath, squeezing the bridge of her nose in annoyance. Valentyne had only smiled sheepishly. What could he have done? Unlike with Mercer, there was no way he was going to even try and stand up for himself around Maven. He had a feeling that her quick tongue and sharp wit could send his confidence into the ground before he could even muster a word. Valentyne may have been a master at the art of speech, but it often fell short when a glare like hers was applied to his already failing composure.

He was still tired and sore from his trip to Goldenglow. Valentyne was not the best at restoration, and had just barely managed to seal the large gash without any internal damage. It took the best of him to even be able to smile when he arrived, and even more to joke and laugh with the Guild. Each time his stomach jostled with a simple giggle he had to bite back a wince. Needless to say, Valentyne wasn't in the best shape, but he wouldn't let anyone else know that.

Estimating the time by looking up at the sun, he suddenly felt the urge to walk around. He didn't mind staying with the thieves too much, but being cooped up in a grotesque smelling sewer did nothing for him. The air was as warm as it could be at this time of the year in Skyrim, and by Talos, Valentyne was going to make the most of it before he was sent off to Whiterun.

To say he was pleased about traveling wasn't the right word, but he wasn't distraught over it either. He liked Whiterun very much, he even had friends there. But the thought of having to travel all that way by himself was really bothering him. Traveling great distances always left him feeling rather skittish. The thought of something horrible waiting for him could not be dismissed while he would lead his horse on. Sometimes it would get so bad he would have to stop and wait in a hidden area until he was comfortable to move again. His silly fear was the only reason he had ever started traveling with Durga in the first place. He had hoped that by traveling with a powerful figure like her it would have made it easier to control his worries, and it had to a point. Sometimes, though, he would still catch himself scanning the surrounding area for any unwanted guests.

Valentyne walked into the market place, idly toying with his string that was sloppily tied around his neck. He knew he wouldn't buy anything, but he didn't want to wander outside the walls to get the fresh air he was craving. Besides, he found that some of the people in the market place weren't half bad. Sometimes he enjoyed to listen to Mjoll's stories, or to even share a brief conversation with Maramal whenever he caught him traveling to the Bee and Barb. It kept him more in tune with the outside world whenever he followed Brynjolf around when he was tending to his stall; helped him feel more like he used to when he was nothing more than a young bard seeing the world with a friend close at hand. Most of the people in the market just thought he owed something to Brynjolf, and was simply tailing him and helping out to pay off a debt. He played along with the lie; it made collecting his debts that much easier, but troubled him ten times more.

People pitied him for being caught up with the Thieves Guild against his free will. Only a frail little boy who couldn't fend for himself, why must he be branded in with a group of abhorrent thieves? And who was he to crush their delicate image of him? His morals told him to, yet his pride stifled them to the ground like a scolding father with fear loosely in tow. Letting them know that this was all being done on his own accord may cause hostility that his lack of courage couldn't handle, or even cause them to look down upon him more than they already did and make his dignity flare. As much as it killed his guilt, Valentyne just kept silent as he heard the soft whispers.

_Poor kid. _

_He doesn't deserve this._

_What a waste of a good heart._

_Heard Brynjolf threatens him just to get him out here._

_Such a horrible thing to do to one so gentle._

He would just scrunch his nose discretely, and continue on as cheerfully as possible to hush their gossip. If he would have to handle a guilty conscious, he certainly would not also have to handle a hurt ego.

He gave a cheery good morning as he walked by Mjoll and Aerin, and a sympathetic smile to Snilf. He still had to remember to bring him some food, and tried to make an even better mental note to do so. A stiff nod was given to Grelka, who returned it with a slight sneer. He still had yet to gain an ounce of respect from the woman, but he was determined enough to try every day. Everyone else in the area was greeted with the same respect as the last. Except for one, thankfully absent, Argonian man.

Ever since his first _excursion_ with the Guild he had been avoiding Madesi like the plague. Knowing that he had stolen his ring to frame someone else made it almost impossible to face him. The few times Valentyne was forced into a conversation with him, he just barely managed to keep eye contact. If not for his need to show respect, he would shun him all together. During the brief moments Valentyne fell into his thoughts, he didn't see the other mass coming towards him swiftly until he tumbled to the ground.

He fell onto his back with a hard thud, and he winced as a rock dug into his tender side. The gentle apologies and the looming figure above him alerted the worst; he had bumped into the one person- or beast- he hadn't wanted to see. Madesi held out a scaled hand, still speaking to Valentyne, but he could not hear. He was cursing his luck in all aspects, gnawing at the inside of his lip angrily. He truly was fortunes fool.

"Land-strider?" Valentyne snapped his gaze up; looking into Madesi's questioning eyes. His hand was still held out, but the hesitancy was clear as it pulled back slightly. Shaking his head, Valentyne took it as gratefully as he could. Just because he had done him wrong and was now grieving in his guilt didn't mean he had to act rude.

"It is quite alright," Valentyne said, brushing off his clothes when he was steady. "The fault is my own. I was lost in my musings and forgot where I was. So it is to you I apologize." He smiled, but it was more hard than normal due to being forced. Just a few shared words and then he could somehow manage to scurry off without seeming like a complete degenerate. Madesi returned his smile, but it was much more sincere than Valentyne's had been. "Where are you headed in such a frenzy, if you do not mind my asking?"

"I slept in much later then intended," He answered with a chuckle. "Up late thinking, I'm afraid. I didn't want to miss out on any business, although it seems like that isn't too much of a problem." The sudden grim look on his face caused a ting of pain in Valentyne's chest.

"Business has been a bit of a trouble?" Valentyne questioned innocently as he followed Madesi to his stall. He knew the answer to it; he saw how it went for the Argonian every day. No one had the money to buy jewelry around Riften, and the few travelers that wandered in hardly paid him any mind. He flinched a bit as he remembered the ring, and how stealing something so simple could have caused him much more trouble if they hadn't found it on Brand-Shei.

"That it has." Silence followed, and Valentyne found himself at a loss of what else to say for once in his life. His mind was too fogged to properly function, so he just watched as Madesi set up his stall, sitting on the rock wall and kicking his feet back and forth. Madesi gathered his variety of necklaces up, setting a few different ones out in the display case this time.

"Do you make all of your jewelry by hand?" Valentyne asked curiously, leaning forward to get a better look at a silver necklace embedded with emeralds that had caught his eye. Madesi smiled at the question, finishing up his set up while looking over his shoulder at him.

"I do," He said, but then frowned after another thought hit him. "Sadly, I'm one of the few traditional Saxhleel Jewelers that remains in Tamriel; it's becoming a lost art." Valentyne couldn't help but flinch again when the Argonian looked away. Gnawing at his lip, he looked down at his feet before gaining the courage to look up at him again.

"Are such thoughts what plagued your mind my friend?" Madesi stared off a bit, until he finally nodded.

"Yes, somewhat. But even gathering materials has become hazardous. Bandits and now even dragons cover the way to mines and other cities." He sighed, leaning back against the wall next to Valentyne, staring up at the sky. "Even a few flawless gems at this point would serve me wonders." Valentyne watched him closely, waiting to see any sign of sadness or anger on his face. It was only a distant and dazed expression, with no real meaning behind it. The silence was unbearable, and finally the Argonian sighed again. "There I am rambling about nothing again. I'm sure you have better things to do, so I will leave you to it. Safe travels, land-strider." Madesi nodded at him, smiling, and then went to busying himself to something under his stall.

Valentyne sat there a minute, watching him. He could vaguely remember himself in the same predicament, crouched down and shuffling through the few belongings the Argonian owned. The memory though had been significantly blocked for his wellbeing by a stiff barrier, and left him with a small remembrance of that day. He shifted a bit, his hand going down to the small coin purse tied to his belt. It was one he carried when he was out and about; his larger one staying in (what he hoped) was the safe area of the Cistern. He had been saving his money since the first day of his travels, and told many it was just his cheap nature that he refused to spend a single coin. Durga often had chastised him about it, having to constantly use her coin to pay for rooms at inns. Reaching a careful hand into the pouch, he searched around until his finger came in contact with the smooth surface of a gem.

The one time Durga had actually managed to drag him into a Nordic ruin he had found a few flawless sapphires and diamonds in a chest he had searched. He had given most of them to Durga, but she had allowed him to keep two of the sapphires for himself. Of course, he had no use for them, but figured he would sell them as soon as he found someone to take them for a good price. Yet… Madesi probably needed them more than he did. Maybe it would even soothe his guilt.

"Here," Valentyne said, hopping off the wall. When Madesi turned around, Valentyne was holding out both sapphires in his palm. The Argonian's eyes were wide as he stared at them, and then up at the smiling boy before him. "Go on, you may take them. I harbor no purpose for them." Hesitantly, Madesi took them, watching his face carefully entire time. Valentyne's smile didn't falter in the least, the sincerity glittering in his eyes.

"Thank you," Madesi muttered, still covered by surprise. How could this boy, stuck in a debt with the Guild, give him something so expensive? Were the rumors shifting about Riften false? _Impossible, _he thought. The Guild wouldn't want someone so frail in the first place. "I appreciate it, beyond words." Valentyne stood a little straighter as Madesi turned away, feeling pride well up for preforming a virtuous deed once more.

"I will actually be out traveling by next dawn. Is there any other material you require?" Valentyne grinned at Madesi's baffled expression, suppressing a laugh.

"Well, yes, but you don't have to get them for me."

"It is not a hindrance to me in the least," Valentyne said to his distraught expression. "It would be quite a pleasure to help you." Madesi stared at him for a moment more, and then he finally returned his smile. He scratched down a few other things he needed on a piece of parchment, chattering away to the young boy just listening carefully. By the time Valentyne said his goodbyes, he could already feel his pride slowly being spoiled. He was an imbecile for thinking that one good deed would make up for his thievery. As he walked away, he briefly wondered how Madesi would feel if he knew that it was actually Valentyne himself who stole his ring. The gentle Argonian probably wouldn't have cared all that much, Valentyne realized; would just pity him more for being roped into doing something so horrible. Valentyne furrowed his brows at the thought.

He slowly walked by the Bee and Barb. There would be few people inside, he knew, but he didn't want to go back to the Cistern in a bitter mood. Valentyne knew that Brynjolf would pester him about it until he confessed what was on his mind. Besides, it would be good for him to perform for a different crowd before he left.

The door creaked a bit as he opened it, drawing the attention of Keerava, who was behind her counter. He smiled at her, and she returned it half-heartedly, busy with a stack of papers in front of her. Valentyne made sure to visit her occasionally to make up for collecting her debt so abruptly. He would entertain the early morning drinkers to allow her to do the things she had to do. It was a lot like babysitting, but Valentyne didn't mind.

As he suspected, there weren't many people in the small room. A few travelers were scattered about at different tables, eating a meal of some sort of stew. He could hear some commotion from above, briefly wondering if Maven was still around. Sapphire was leaned against the wall by the stairs as she always was, and she sneered at him as he entered. Valentyne did his best to ignore her, but he couldn't help to walk a bit quicker when he passed her. One day he would stand up to her… right when she stopped looking at him like a bug that needed to be crushed.

Valentyne walked up to Keerava with a small smile, trying to diminish his earlier acidity. "Greetings to you, Keerava. I hope life is treating you well today." Valentyne put his hands on the counter, off to the side of her so he wouldn't touch the papers when he leaned onto the wood. Keerava wrote a quick note on one of them and then smiled up at Valentyne as she put them away.

"Hello, V. Yes, everything is fine," She said smoothly, but Valentyne could make out the doubt in her expression before she could hide it. Everything was not fine. "Back again? I saw you scurry out the door from upstairs a bit earlier." Valentyne's smile slightly faltered at the mention of his little escapade earlier that morning, but brightened it when Keerava gave him a questing look.

"Oh, yes, I was just… visiting someone is all," He said as she grabbed a tankard and went to get him his usual cider. "I was actually hoping to entertain a bit. Of course, only if you shall permit me to do so." Keerava laughed, handing him the cider while she did.

"Of course I don't mind. Your stories have a way of even brightening my day." To this, Valentyne beamed. As a bard, he found that his one true purpose in life was entertaining others and bringing smiles to their faces. No matter how much coin he received, in the end he was simply pleased to gain laughter for his work. It was all he needed to feel right with himself. That right feeling was possibly the only thing that calmed him at the end of every night when he would tell his tales to the Guild.

He walked to the very center of the room, his shoulders back and his head high. Only a few people took notice to him as he untied his flute from his belt, soft muttering quickly filling the room. It hardly fazed him. Sweeping a gentle touch over the smooth wood, he closed his eyes and put the mouth piece to his lips. He breathed deeply; in and out. Music was his therapeutic relaxation that he shared with whoever he could bestow it upon.

So when he started playing his flute, he let all of his silly worries flow out in his music in such a way that it even caught the attention of Sapphire. Each note was produced in such a beautiful degree that it was like a blast of emotional flames, scorching the minds of whoever listened. There was an equal amount of sorrow and bliss that mingled together, creating a dangerous duet. Or a competition that neither could ever win, forever struggling in their warfare. Those flames combusted into such a mass of heat and fervor that shivers rattled the spines of many of the people in the room. By the time Valentyne finished, everyone was stuck in a stunned silence, but it didn't bother him. He was too busy relishing in the tranquility surrounding him, feeling completely at ease. It wasn't until a soft applause was heard from the corner of the room that he snapped out of his peace, looking over at Sapphire with an expression of disbelief. He watched her carefully, hardly listening to the others applauding around him. They shared a long and intense gaze with one another, until Valentyne finally smiled at her.

He sat down after that, telling a few short tales here and there. The travelers in the room were pleased to listen to him, relating to some. He told them cheerfully, all past woes long forgotten in the lingering effects of his song. It wasn't until he realized the time that the stopped abruptly. He was far past the time he had initially promised to return. Muttering some apologies to the ones still listening to him, he trotted off to look for Keerava and to thank her. Valentyne had noticed she had walked down stairs with Talen-Jei not too long ago, discussing something. He didn't want to interrupt, but he didn't want to run off without expressing his gratitude either.

From the top of the steps, he could hear soft muttering. He was about to call down before a loud bang through his ears, and he flinched back. More muttering followed. Valentyne stood there until he could no longer handle his curiosity. Remembering what Delvin had taught him, he crept down silently, sticking close to the shadows on the wall.

"…do something!" The gruff undertone in the voice spoke masculinity. _Talen-Jei_. "We can't keep giving our money to them, Keerava!" Valentyne in took a deep breath, gripping at his chest tightly. He had to force himself to keep listening.

"Well what am I to do?" Keerava asked. She was tired; weary. "They just keep coming."

"Say no to that little boy," Talen-Jei snapped. "And then to whomever else follows! It can't be that difficult. If we don't we'll never be able to marry, and we'll lose our home as well." Valentyne felt blood in his mouth as his teeth pierced the sensitive flesh on his lips. How had this happened? Why hadn't Keerava told him? Maybe he could have worked out something with Brynjolf or-

"But he's just doing what he is told, Talen-Jei. He is in just as bad as us." What he is told… _what he is told._ Of course, that was what it always was; just a big pity part for the little boy who called dragon. Valentyne couldn't listen to anymore after that, and he found his legs moving on their own and stalking out the door.

How much longer would he have to play this game? So many lies were building up around him into a fragile wall of glass. Even the slightest wind could make them crash around his feet. He lost track now of when it first happened, this play of lies. Maybe he had always been this way, deep down inside.

The first few lies hadn't hurt much; he had actually been ok with them. It wasn't until he came to this damn place that everything went wrong. The structure of his kingdom went askew, making it ever more decrepit. Valentyne felt the anger prick through his body as he walked over to the graveyard. He couldn't even blame Durga for this mess. The innocent Khajiit had only been doing what she had to do to find Esbern. How could she have known that _that_ bastard would have such an effect on him?

Valentyne resisted the urge to kick the switch that opened the grave, pushing it roughly. What was Brynjolf's problem anyway? Why had it been so absolutely _necessary_ for him to stay and help the Guild? Brynjolf could have chosen anyone else after that ridiculous set up. _Anyone else._ Valentyne never should have gone down to the Flagon. It was all Brynjolf's fault for being… well himself!

By the time Valentyne was in the Cistern, he was fuming. Rune was the first to notice him enter, and thought it best to act like he hadn't as the boy walked by. When Valentyne was out of ear shot, he questioned his behavior to Vipir, who just shrugged. Cynric backed away from the archery area a few minutes after Valentyne skulked over. After the first angry arrow was shot, he didn't want to hear any of his hateful mumblings.

The word of Valentyne's wrathful entrance leaked its way into the Flagon, and soon enough Brynjolf was walking into the Cistern, passing many of the Guild members who wanted to avoid the boy. He didn't know much, except that his protégé was out for blood. Sure enough, he heard an exasperated sigh not a moment after he entered. Brynjolf walked carefully over to him, making sure not to step on any of the arrows on the ground that had clearly missed their target. Valentyne was crouched over on the ground, face buried into his hands. His bow was thrown off to the side somewhere, and more arrows were scattered about his feet. The ones that had actually managed to hit their target were far from the center.

"Something wrong lad?" Valentyne flinched. Brynjolf watched as he looked up at him through his fingers, barely lifting his head. He was angry in all aspects of the word, and whoever had annoyed him had done a very good job. Valentyne never had such a look to him. It made Brynjolf wonder… until he harrumphed and covered his eyes again. Had _he_ done something? "Lad?"

He suddenly threw his hands down, slamming his fists into the stone. His lip was torn up from his teeth, a few spots of dried blood on the tears. The scrunched up look to his face accented his snarl, and Brynjolf backed up a bit. "I am so bloody sick of this shit!" Wait… did Valentyne just curse?

"Excuse me?" It was all Brynjolf could manage to ask as the idea of it washed over him. No, it was impossible. Valentyne was too literate and good for any sort of vulgar language. Even in the little verbal debate he had had with a costumer once he had kept his calm, only using vocabulary above the other man's head to fight with.

"You heard me," Valentyne hissed through clenched teeth. "Or are you deaf as well as incompetent? That is just wonderful, I think. Because you know it is always just a damn festivity when you are a bloody idiot. Kind of relaxing, you see. You know why, do you not? Because you do not know what in oblivion you are doing, that is why! It makes everything easy for you, but everyone else sees you as a damn fool. But you could really be a genius playing it for the crowd. Putting on that mask just for show, making it easier for your own living. No one knows either, and you live in the lie as if you need nothing else. Playing the fool… what am I even doing?" He sighed heavily, burying his face into his hands as his anger suddenly dispersed, leaving a brewing sadness.

Brynjolf watched him carefully, confused beyond reasoning. "Are you… okay lad?" Valentyne's shoulders began to shake, and he briefly wondered if he was crying before he heard the soft laughter. His loose curls bounced around his face as he looked up at him, a crooked smile on his face.

"I have not the slightest idea anymore," He said softly with distant eyes. They were not even looking at Brynjolf, but past him off into some strange and inane place that only he could see. And he was lost there, in that place of oddities. Lost without a purpose; forever wandering with no true goal. Valentyne stared for a bit longer, until the sorrow of it all crushed him, and he looked back down at the ground.

Brynjolf didn't know what to do. He had never been very good at… cheering someone like Valentyne up. A few drinks were fine for everybody else, but they made Valentyne sick. A few senseless jokes at an ex –lover were also a great tool to use, but Valentyne wasn't in need of that kind of cheering up. A pat on the back, a playful punch to the shoulder… They wouldn't help anyone as crushed as the young boy before him. The worst part about it: it was probably something to do with the Guild.

So he did the only thing he could do; he changed the subject.

"What did Maven say?" The question came out more awkward then he had intended, but Valentyne didn't seem to notice. He just sat there, staring at the floor for a few moments, until finally his lips started to move in a soft mumble. Brynjolf could only catch the word 'travel' and 'Whiterun' from the barely audible sound. "You have to go to Whiterun, huh? Is that why you are all upset?" Brynjolf smiled, hoping to get one in return. Valentyne just stared at the floor, and after a minute nodded. What was another lie upon his walls? "It is quite the ways to travel by yourself… Let me talk to Mercer, I'll see if you can have a traveling companion."

Valentyne looked up too late; Brynjolf was already walking towards the Guild Master's room. He just watched him go, not bothering to call after him. There was no point, for he would do it anyway. Valentyne didn't have the energy to even call out, he felt completely drained from his mental breakdown. The depression swirling through his mind had rendered him useless.

His face was hot. It was uncomfortable as he dragged himself over to his bed to grab his bucket of water. He sat on the edge of one of the bridges in the center of the Cistern, his legs crossed. Valentyne's movements were slow as he grabbed the cloth out from his bucket. When it touched his face, he flinched as if it burned, but kept it there until he could move his hand. He didn't stop until his face and neck were soaking wet. He rang the cloth out above the water of the Cistern, watching as it splashed into the dark depths. The water twisted and churned, the ripples disfiguring his reflection.

Valentyne's eyes widened as it steadied, and he stared into the eyes that had formed. They were his eyes, but they weren't at the same time. The sky blue was brighter, full of jubilance and a spark of courage that was unnumbered. The lips were upturned, the sweetest of smiles laced onto them. The expression beat at his heart, because it wasn't him. Proud, brave, and completely at rest. How could he ever be that? He raised his hand and swatted at the _thing_ in the water, causing a splash to spew out in all directions. He didn't want to see it anymore.

"Lad?" Valentyne hadn't notice Brynjolf standing off to the side by one of the beds, and jumped at the sound of his voice. He looked up at him with wide eyes that dulled when they realized there was no threat. He shook his head, looking back at the water to find the reflection normal. It still brought him no peace. "I talked to Mercer." The uncertainty in Brynjolf's voice made Valentyne want to slap himself. What was he doing? He was acting like an idiot, throwing stupid little temper tantrums and having mood swings like a woman going through her cycle. Throwing away his pity, he smiled up at Brynjolf the best he could.

"Oh? And what has our _lovely_ Guild Master decided?" The teasing quality of the question surprised Brynjolf, and he found himself wondering if Valentyne should really be going on this little trip. Maybe he had caught some delusion inducing fever. The amount of water that was still clinging to him made it plausible.

"Well…" Brynjolf coughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "No one else can go, apparently. So I'm to go with you."

Valentyne could feel his face falling, and had to dig his nails into his palm to keep his smile on his face. "Really? How wonderful," Was all he could say before the pep could leave his voice. Brynjolf cocked an eyebrow, only to be brushed off by Valentyne. He stood up, grabbing his bucket and walking down the bridge to his bed. "We shall have to rise early to get an acceptable start. I hope that is not a problem, my late rising friend." He shot Brynjolf a teasing grin as he put his bucket away. Brynjolf couldn't help but grin back at him.

"You'll be surprised lad. I can wake up early if I have the need to." Valentyne rolled his eyes, turning to face Brynjolf with his arms folded in front of his chest.

"Let us see how you feel about that statement tomorrow." The mask was left glued upon his face. He was the fool dancing within the crowd; within his kingdom of glass. The wind was picking up over the horizon, and he could only wait for it all to fall down.

_The people you've been before that you don't want around anymore__  
><em>_That push and shove and won't bend to your will__  
><em>_I'll keep them still_

* * *

><p><em><strong>~Authors Note~<strong>_

_Well, I hope that wasn't too much of an emotional roller-coaster for you all! It seems when I normally favor his thoughts, I usually end up making it rather sad and conflicting. Valentyne is more of a thinker, if anything, and usually leads him to inner arguments. I hope that Chapter Nine will not be so difficult to write, and will be a lot less… dramatic. I hope you al enjoyed~! I shall see you next time~!_

_Yours Eternally, Erin_


End file.
